


Long Way Back

by silversun07



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst with a Happy Ending, Betaed, Canon-Typical Violence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/F, Gritty, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2019-11-15 00:52:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18063440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silversun07/pseuds/silversun07
Summary: Ellie never expects to be stranded in the Wyoming wilderness with Dina, but when a pack of Infected attack, it's up to her to get them home safely to Jackson.





	1. Chapter 1

Amber sunlight streams between the pinewood barn slats as another hard day of work in Jackson draws to a close. Ellie hefts the worn leather toolbag onto the plywood workbench and dumps off a pair of ratty garden gloves, auburn hair clinging to her sweating temples, freckled cheeks flushed with exhaustion. She takes a swig of warm water from a canteen at her hip, leaning against the workbench and admiring Jackson's thirteen horses, all cozied up in their winter stalls.

Catching her breath, Ellie sets the canteen aside and approaches the stall nearest to her. A grey mare nickers and nudges Ellie over the gate. Ellie chuckles and raises her palm, fitting it perfectly over the velvety nose.

“You've already had your dessert, Callisto,” Ellie replies. The mare snorts, and Ellie rolls her eyes, doubling-back to the workbench. She swings open a cabinet underneath and pulls out a single apple from the concealed bushel. She palms it up before Callisto, who eagerly chomps and licks it in four bites. Ellie strokes the white star between her eyes. “Goodnight, you goofball.”

One by one, she bids goodnight to each horse, patting their flank or knocking on their gate as she strolls down the dirt path back to the front of the barn. The routine was also a way to check that each stall was locked. A chestnut colt she’d named Ganymede had a reputation for trying to unlock their gate and spotting the efforts for a third time, she’d consulted one of Jackson's welders for a “horse-proof” lock, lest she find the colt investigating the same cupboard she kept the apples in the next morning.

Ellie slings a soiled flannel over her shoulder and hits the lights. She kicks the bricks holding the doors open aside, reaching high over her head for the heavy drawbar to latch the barn closed. Finally, she twists a fat, rusty padlock and pockets the even rustier key. Another day down.

She trudges home alone, every muscle aching from an arduous day of mucking hay, clearing cobwebs, sealing cracks, and ensuring that each of Jackson's horses have enough feed for the winter. She waves to Grace, the horses’ main caretaker, checking on her from the window. Grace was by no means elderly, but her very passion for horseback riding and too many falls left her with a grumpy, dislocated hip that made daily chores difficult. Ellie was simply thankful for the opportunity to bring the herd out to the sagebrush prairies, the closest it seemed she could get to a world without walls.

All around her, Jackson was settling in for the night. Mothers called children from their porches or rang iron bells, dam workers set down their hard hats and picked up a bottle of whiskey, and the patrol crew shifted to the next batch of hours, swapping rumors and checking firearm cartridges. None of this would change when winter hit, but it would happen earlier, the sun sinking lower and lower behind the mountains as the day drew to a close.

Ellie retires to a small cabin on the other side of town. Towering spruce trees shower the aluminum roof with amber needles and separate it from the other homes, plumes of grey smoke already billowing from their stone-muddled chimneys. Her steps are heavy and lazy up the wooden porch stairs, pushing her weight into the door, home at last.

“Hey, Joel,” she says with a great deal of effort. She collapses into a chair at a round dining table, head down on its cool, flat surface. She could fall asleep right there.

“Hey, Ellie,” he replies, busy chopping carrots on a wooden cutting board. He picks it up and scrapes it into the cast iron pot on an electric stove. “How's things?”

“Ugh. Can't talk. Need food.”

Joel chuckles at her suffering and tosses the cutting board into the sink. “That bad?”

Ellie groans.

“I know all about them long days. Trust me. Construction boss used to want me comin’ in before sunrise and wouldn't let me leave darn 'til midnight.”

He scoops two mismatching ceramic bowls full of a dark, meaty stew, complete with bent metal spoons. Ellie's share is set on the table in front of her.

“Hope you like it,” he remarks. “It's, uh, one of Gloria's recipes.”

“Don't care. Hungry.” Ellie picks up her spoon, about to dig in, when she catches Joel glaring at her arm. The hair prickles on the back of her neck. “What?”

Joel shakes his head and pokes at his food. “Nothing.”

Ellie's brow furrows. “Joel…”

“Look, Ellie, we've… We've been over this.” He glances out the window, covered by thin patchwork curtains, as if expecting someone to be pressing their nose against the glass. His voice lowers, serious and calm. “You can't be walking around town with a scar like that.”

Ellie rests her elbows on the table. The bite wound, though faded, is still ugly, reddened, and visible to the naked eye. She clenches her jaw.

“It's fine. Nobody noticed at the stalls, and it was dark by the time I was walking home.”

“You need to be more careful.”

“I don't see what the big deal is. I'm immune, not contagious.”

Joel grunts and digs at his food. “We don't know that.”

Ellie's spoon clanks against her bowl's rim. “I'm not hungry anymore.”

“Ellie…”

“It's fine, Joel, it's fine.” She dismisses with a wave of her hand. “But when you start to feel like the town freak, let me know so I can ignore you.”

“You know that ain't true,” he replies sternly. “But for now, it needs to stay a secret. If people found out you were infected…”

“It'd be bad. Yeah, I know. But if I could just tell one person…”

“No,” Joel snaps, his own spoon clanking in his bowl as his fist clenches. “I won't square off with a whole fucking town. Do you understand me? I'm trying to protect you.”

Ellie crosses her arms and mutters something under her breath.

Joel looks at her. “What?”

“I said,” Ellie replies with a sharp glare, “I don't need protection.”

“Yeah? Well you're getting it, whether you want it or not.” He picks up his spoon again, shaking his head, clearly wanting to drop the subject altogether.

Ellie sits there, ignoring her food.

Joel fixes her with an apprehensive frown. “You need to eat.”

“Not as much as I need a sledgehammer.”

“Sledgehammer? Now, what do you need that for?”

“To bust this ball and chain you've got on me,” Ellie snarks back, propping her foot up on the table. “I just want a little freedom. That's all.”

“You have plenty of freedom. Moreso than other kids your age.”

“Other sixteen year olds don't have a curfew.”

“Other sixteen year olds ain't infected.”

Ellie bristles, her chair scraping the uneven floorboards as she stands. Joel straightens as she heads upstairs.

“Ellie, come back. No need to fight.”

“That was a low blow, Joel, and you know it.”

He stands and follows her to the foot of the steep, narrow staircase. It's his turn to cross his arms. “Have you even thought about what happens if someone finds out? This whole town will flip its goddamn lid.”

“Gee, way to apologize.” She stomps further up the stairs and stops midway. “Why should I give a shit if people know?”

“Because right now, we are good. We are safe,” Joel bites back, voice rising with his temper. “You tellin’ everyone you're infected? Who knows what'll happen. They might kick you out or they might kill you. Folks were friendly enough to take us in, but a lynch mob don't listen to reason. We're keepin’ this quiet.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Oh, bullshit!”

“'Scuse me?”

“This isn't about me. You're making this all about you! You've got everything you've ever wanted and you're too chicken to tell everybody the truth about me. Well, you know what? There's one thing here you don't have.”

The vein in Joel's temple pulses. Her question lingers in the air, but he already knows the answer. He lowers his head, shadows gathering under his worn eyes, like a bull ready to charge. “Don't…”

“A daughter, Joel,” Ellie spits. “You don't have a daughter, and even if you did, you wouldn't know how to fucking raise one!”

“Ellie!” he shouts back, coarse and thunderous, face red. Ellie throws up her hands, more indifferent than defeated, turning her back and tromping up the stairs. “That's right, you go to your--”

She slams the bedroom door.

Joel growls, hands on his hips, shaking his head at where she once had been. “Lord have mercy. Fucking teenagers…”

Upstairs, slamming the door hadn’t been enough. The fury bubbles up inside Ellie's chest and she throws the soiled flannel over her shoulder to the floor. She kicks the dresser, shaking the cracked mirror on top of it, an odd assortment of trinkets toppling over. Finally, she collapses backwards on the firm rubber mattress, wooden bed frame creaking and shuddering. She glares at a spot in the ceiling where the wood panel curls into a knot, replaying the argument in her mind and not regretting a single word of it.

She was exhausted and angry and now, disgusted. She sits up, nostrils flaring. All day, she had been looking forward to coming home and maybe reading a book, but that clearly was no longer happening. She wants absolutely nothing to do with being here at all.

She notices a crumpled piece of paper on the floor, having fluttered loose from where she threw her flannel. She picks it up and smoothes the sweaty creases to unfurl a note written in purple ink.

Bonfire. Tonight. North of the old mill.

It doesn't take long for Ellie to make a decision. She pockets the note, buttons up a new flannel, tugs on her sneakers, and unlatches the bedroom's only window. She's halfway through the frame when she moves back in and pulls open the first drawer of the night stand. She checks the magazine of lightweight Beretta pistol, flicks the safety, and tucks it in the back of her waistband. Only then, does she slip out the window into the cool, autumn evening.

Ellie skirts over the aluminum roof and drops the ten feet down, the spruce needles muffling her sound. She ducks immediately and presses herself to the siding, Joel's shadow passing by the yellow light of the kitchen window. He has no idea she's gone. Good.

With most Jackson residents indoors, the night brings a great hush over the town. Ellie keeps away from the main roads, packed with earth and gravel, slinking around Joel’s cabin and over to the next one. Voices from the patrolmen up on the wall float on the breeze, drifting between the sagebrush and tall bunchgrasses. Their backs face her, more concerned with keeping things out than in.

She had heard rumors about there being certain “vulnerabilities” in the wall; beams that knocked loose at just the right angle to fit through or greasy-palmed patrolmen that would simply look the other way. But the easiest, least noticeable path was around Grace’s house. 

The caretaker’s curtains are drawn. Ellie doesn’t doubt that Grace is already passed out in her armchair. She creeps around the back porch to the barn, pressing up against the wooden slats she had meticulously patched and spackled all day, the horses chuffing and snoring inside. They’re oblivious to her as she crosses the full length of the barn to the pasture gates.

Normally, these were triple-checked at the end of the day to be locked and secured, as they were a notable passage between Jackson and the wilderness. Lucky for her, she was privy to the location of the keys, and knew they were in the nearest fence post, hidden in a hollowed-out center. She undoes the padlock wrapped in chains with a soft click, parting the gates enough to slip on through. She would be back before morning.

The vast meadow of Jackson Hole yawns before her. Ellie crouches, checking the wall for a patrolman, and spotting them at the other end of the settlement. She stands, shoulders relaxing, and sets off with an easy gait for the abandoned sawmill, tucked between the meadow's edge and an evergreen forest.

At last, she was free. With every step, Joel fell further and further behind, a strange satisfaction taking root. She could do this without him and didn't need his protection. Of that much, she was certain.

Wood smoke intermingles with the crisp sweetness of autumn leaves. The sawmill is dusty and quiet as Ellie passes it, a gradual slope rising behind it, enclosing her in a dense pine forest. By the light of the moon dappled between the boughs she makes out a winding trail, marked by wayward stones and stick paths. It wasn't the first time Jackson's youth would sneak to the woods, and from the looks of it, it wasn't going to be the last.

Many twists and turns soon reveal a towering bonfire, bright orange scattering the shadows of trees in all directions. She catches silhouettes dancing, wrestling, and embracing by firelight, recognizing only a few faces in the dark. They tilt their heads in greeting as she approaches, a silent acknowledgement. She doesn't know them, but they know her.

Ellie snags a mason jar of moonshine stolen from the mess hall and finds a spot leaning against one of the hefty boulders situated around the bonfire. She chews on her lips, now tingling, a complete fly on the wall to the small crowd singing and gossiping the night away.

Who knows who and who knows what are the center of every teenager's world. Ellie watches them sneak into the seclusion of the bushes or make out in the broad firelight. One boy shoves another for kissing “his” girl, when she was the one to kiss the other guy first. It's all wildly trivial for an otherwise calm autumn evening.

Ellie smirks and just swigs her drink. She doesn't get hammered like some of her the other kids, who almost stumble into the bonfire, or slur her words so hard no one can understand what she's saying. No, she drinks enough to relax the tension in her shoulders and feel the warmth spread in her chest, but still feels the pistol tucked in her waistband. Crazy nights like these make people forget what monsters reside beyond Jackson's walls.

Sometimes, she would like to forget, too. And so her eyes linger on the way they walk and talk, hypnotised by the teenage drama unfolding in front of her. She thinks about mimicking them, striking up a conversation on the fly or maybe cracking some bad puns, but it never feels right.

She's not shy, but even when she was younger, Riley was the one to always be making friends.

A tall silhouette approaches her, and a boy turns to lean against the boulder with her, cheering his mason jar to hers.

“Hey. How're you likin’ the party?” he asks.

She shrugs. “It's okay.”

“Okay?” he snorts. “Man, Ellie. Don't be such a riot.”

Her smirk widens with the sarcasm. “I'm having the time of my life, Jesse. Really. Every single moment has all led up to this.”

“All right, all right, no need to be melodramatic.” But he laughs, shaking his head. He pauses, first glancing at Ellie, and and then to the group on the other side of the fire. He clears his throat. “So. What do you think of her?”

His question bumps her out of what could have been a spell. “Who?”

Jesse discreetly points with his glass at the girl at the center of the group's attention. She's easily the newest face, but it's one that all of Jackson already knows: Dina Woodward.

She had shown up on a late September evening, right when the sun was setting and the leaves were beginning to change color. Everything about her had a radiance. Maybe it was her olive skin or the bright patterns on her clothes, her choices based more on expression than practicality, an archaic concept in the post-apocalypse. The people of Jackson took to her instantly, inviting her to their family meals and welcoming her to sing in their church hymns. And Dina was more than happy to help in return, already picking vegetables from the communal gardens or thread weaving with Jackson's elderly few. She had become the town's favorite pupil overnight.

Again, Ellie shrugs but switches her stare into the bottom of her empty glass. Her cheeks are hot and she's not sure what from. She blames the booze.

“I dunno. I don't really know her.”

“But she's great, right?”

“I mean, yeah, if you're… into that.”

“Into what?” He frowns.

“New girls?” She was grasping at straws, struggling to come up with an opinion that hadn't even formed yet. Well, that wasn't true, she did have an opinion, but…

Jesse laughs regardless. “Make fun of me all you want, Ellie, but I'm asking her out.”

“Oh.”

“What, does that bother you or something?”

Ellie opens her mouth to respond, but doesn't. She slowly slides of the rock and to her feet, straightening.

“Ellie? What's going on?” Jesse asks. He follows her gaze over his shoulder. “Oh, shit.”

In the midst of dancing and laughing, someone had brought out an acoustic guitar. The steady strumming rose above their voices, the bonfire, and the whole party altogether, echoing into the night.

Jesse sets his empty glass on the boulder. “I'll handle this.”

He marches through the gathering crowd about to join in on a song. He snatches the guitar by the neck.

“What the hell, man?”

“You're going to get us killed, that's what,” Jesse seethes in a low, terse tone. He towers over a younger boy with an intimidating glower.

The boy jumps to his feet, pushing his face into Jesse's. “Doesn't mean you can just take my shit. No one's seen a Clicker in months. They're gone. Chill the fuck out.”

Jesse's lips remain a tight, straight line. When the boy makes a grab for the guitar, he jerks it out of the way and chucks it into the bonfire.

“You asshole! You'll fucking pay for that!”

The boy launches at Jesse with a furious, drunken cry. 

The small crowd swarms around them like crows egging on clashing bulls, one of them sure to kill the other and hoping for scraps.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!”

But Jesse is tougher and stronger, swatting away the hits and shoving him back. Jesse punches him in the nose and the boy's head knocks back, blood spurting freely down his front. Jesse follows through with a punch to the gut.

“Fuck you, man,” the boy blubbers, clutching his nose as he staggers backwards. “Fuck you.”

The crowd diminishes with a few disappointed groans and booing, unsurprised at Jesse's victory. He ignores them, wiping his knuckles on his jeans, and returning to Ellie with a smug grin.

“Stupid kids. I told the others we shouldn't invite them.” He grabs his empty mason jar from the rock. “Hey, I'm out. You want another?”

Ellie glances down into her glass, also empty. She shouldn't, but...

“Sure,” she chirps. “One more can't hurt.”

He mock salutes her and strolls over to the crate of moonshine, the crackling bonfire and teenage murmurs resuming. The mason jars rattle and clink as he rummages through them for a full one, when something long, low, and awful moans from deep inside the forest.

A rhythmic thumping like horse hooves thunder over the lively chatter. One by one, voices wane at the sound, heads turning every which way to find its source, a slew of panicked whispers circling through the crowd.

Ellie's skin prickles, her adrenaline from before now hammering blood in her ears, every muscle tightening. No. This isn't happening. It couldn't.

“INFECTED!” A girl screams in sheer terror, and all hell breaks loose.

Ellie can't see which way they are coming from until they surge from the shadows, a guttural caterwaul crescendoing over the horrified scream of her peers. The Infected, a whole pack of them, reach out with pale, blistering arms and broken fingernails at the crowd, scattering in every direction. Ellie pulls the pistol from her waistband and points at the Runner coming straight for her, pinning a bullet to the shoulder and a quick second to the neck, cutting it down with an animalistic squeal. It collapses to the autumn leaves and still twitches as Ellie sprints past it.

She spots Jesse squaring off against two Runners. He brings his knuckles to lips, boxer-style, and jabs the first one right in the teeth, pivoting quickly and punching the second before it can touch him. But the first one whips back and Ellie chucks her moonshine at it, the glass shattering on impact.

“Over here, motherfucker!” she roars, and Jesse lunges for its neck, snapping it with a sickening crackle of bone and sinew. In the same moment, Ellie snatches the the guitar sticking out of the firepit, crashing it over the Runner's head. Embers explode on impact and she inhales the burning flesh and fungus, hitting it again and again until the wood breaks and it crumples over in a smoky, bloody mess.

Jesse looks her dead in the eye. “You need to get out of here.”

“So do you. C'mon!” She turns, the high-pitched croaking of Clickers approaching, slower and ganglier than the Runners.

The woods are a dark, twisting labyrinth, the familiar dirt path lost in the leaves and shadows. Ellie runs, trying to keep step with Jesse, his longer legs bounding past her, leaping over fallen trees with ease. Her lungs burn as she sucks in the frigid autumn air. A stitch swells at her side, but she doesn't slow, a Clicker literally on her heels. 

“Watch out!”

She barely hears Jesse shout ahead of her before he dodges to the left. Ellie skids behind him. Her sneakers slip on the muddied leaves, ankle twisting and losing balance, and she tumbles down a steep ravine in the opposite direction. The forest spirals around her in varying shades of black and blue, hands flailing for anything to grab onto, barreling over roots and stones. She finally crashes to the bottom with a solid thud, icy water seeping through her flannel, everything still spinning.

“Fuck,” she groans. Her whole skeleton screams in protest as she pushes herself up, but she has to get on her feet, has to get away from the Clicker galloping down the hill after her, alien face splayed open and snarling. She stumbles on her twisted ankle as searing pain shoots up her whole leg.

Suddenly, the Clicker veers away from Ellie, lured by another body on the ground. A girl screams, throwing fistfuls of dirt and stone like buckshot, backpedaling on the ground. Ellie tears herself from the stream, roaring at her own body and clenching her switchblade, sprinting after it.

The Clicker swoops in on the girl as Ellie grapples it from behind, her weight the only thing holding it back.

“Run! Go, get out of here!”

The Clicker barks and howls, thrashing in her grasp, claws tearing at her arm. Ellie reaches around and drives her knife into the Clicker’s chest, puncturing its lungs and its throat, hot, oily blood splurting out with every stab. It crackles and sucks in dying breaths, but it still thrashes, bucking Ellie off.

She hits the ground on her back, thrusting her knife up with both hands and driving true into the Clicker’s fungal cartilage, right between where its eyes should be. The blade pulses as if she had stabbed it in the heart, not the brain. Saliva drips warm and viscous from its jaws, whimpering and wounded, the incandescent glow of its eyes and fungal frills fading as it falls.

Ellie shoves the dead body off her, lying flat on her back, the night sky seeming to slow its spinning above her. Someone calls out to her but she can't hear them, a persistent ringing in her ears. A slim hand reaches down to her and suddenly, it's Dina Woodward tugging her back to her feet.

“C'mon, this way!” Dina shouts, pulling at her wrist, and all senses kick into high gear once again. A Runner flails downhill, bellowing at its find and panting rapidly. Feeling floods back into her hands as Ellie snatches her pistol and firing point-blank at the Runner. A bullet punches into its shoulder, enough to make it stumble but not fall. Ellie pivots and sprints behind Dina, dodging trees and bounding over rocks, the night stealing the very breath from her lungs.

“Where are we going?” Ellie yells. Dina's ponytail whips behind her as she makes another sharp turn.

“Shortcut!” Dina calls over her shoulder, skidding underneath a fallen tree. “Watch it!”

Ellie drops to her knees, dirt and leaves biting into her skin, sliding under the tree. A Clicker on her heels impales itself on the sharp branches and screams in agony, other Runners using its carcass to vault over.

“Almost there!”

Sweat stings Ellie's eyes, but she, too, can see the white glow of Jackson's spotlights, coming closer with every winded stride. She musters up a burst of speed, legs burning, when she nearly crashes into Dina, peering over the ledge of a seven foot gap.

“Fuck, oh, fuck,” Dina panics.

“We can make it.”

“What, there's no--”

Ellie glances behind her, Infected swarming right for them, and there’s no second option. She backpedals. With a running start, she launches over the gap, stumbling briefly upon landing. Dina still doesn't move.

“Come on! You got this!” Ellie shouts at her.

“No, I… I can't!” 

“Jump!”

“I--”

A Clicker shrieks and Dina hurls over the ledge. Unlike Ellie, she falls short, crying out as she clings to dangling tree roots and kicking at the earth for footholds. Ellie reaches over the edge.

“Take my hand!”

Dina reaches, but the moment their fingers touch, a Runner throws itself across the gap at Dina, catching her by the ankles. Ellie points her pistol past the flailing girl and shoots, the Runner's head knocking back with a spray of dark blood.

“Pull me up! Hurry!”

“I've got you!”

Ellie lays her pistol down and yanks Dina up with both arms, shifting her weight to the back to fully help her over the ledge. Both girls scramble backwards, terrified and out of breath, watching the dozens of Infected pace and yowl, unable to reach them.

“Keep moving,” Ellie says, pushing up again. “Where's this shortcut?”

“I… I don't know… I…”

Ellie's heart sinks, glancing up at a full moon instead of Jackson's spotlights. She doesn't dwell on it. “Let's put as much distance between us and those things.”

“Okay.”

The tortured howls of the Infected fade as they run until they can't anymore, limp legs taking them down into a ravine not unlike the one they just came from. Tall, yellowing grasses sprout between the spaces of cottonwood trees, and a tangle of willows hunch over a small stream. When all is silent aside from their labored breathing and the stream’s babble, Ellie asks, “Has that ever happened before?”

Dina, doubled over with her hands on her knees, shakes her head. “No. At least, I don't think so. This is actually my first bonfire…”

Something between a scoff and a grunt gets caught in Ellie’s throat. First time or not, there was nothing careful about running around in the woods outside of Jackson. She knew that. Joel was going to be furious.

“It’s Ellie, right?” Dina says. “Thank you.”

Ellie's pounding heart only starts to slow as she sucks the blood from her split lip. “Yeah. And you… You don’t need to thank me.”

“Hey, it’s because of you I’m alive. Taking down Clickers like that? Hard-fucking-core.”

“It was nothing.”

“Huh. Hardcore and modest. I like that. I’m Dina, by the way.”

Ellie’s cheeks flush. “I know. I mean… Everyone knows you.”

To say that Dina was one of the most popular girls in Jackson was an understatement. She was welcomed and adored everywhere she went. None of that mattered out in the wilderness.

Ellie scans the top of the ravine they came from, waiting for the telltale click or groan of Infected, but nothing comes. “Okay. I think we’re safe. Do you know where we are?”

Dina’s smile fades. She gazes up at the same ridge, and then across the stream, over her shoulder, and back to Ellie’s face. “Uh… No.”

“None of this looks familiar?”

“Not really…”

Ellie closes her eyes and exhales. Frustration wells in her chest. “Fuck.”

“But we can get out of here, right?”

“Yeah,” Ellie replies before she can stop herself, because it’s not a question; it’s a fact. They have to get back to Jackson.

“How?”

This time, Ellie doesn’t answer right away. She rests on a large rock jutting out over the stream, unlacing her shoes and massaging her twisted ankle. It throbs under her grimy fingers, but it’s no worse pain than getting scratched, stabbed, or shot, all scars now hidden with a new layer of skin. She’s nowhere near as beat up as Joel is, but she’s not as resilient, either. He would know what to do.

“The river,” she announces, looking upstream at Dina, who kicks stones into the water. “We can follow this stream to the river. And then we can follow that to the Dam.”

“Why not just go back the way we came?” Dina replies, hesitating. “It would be easier, wouldn’t it?”

“Easier to get killed or infected.”

“Oh. Right. Duh.”

“The sound of the water will help cover our voices in case…” She doesn’t need to finish, the thought too chilling to be said aloud. “I mean, unless you have any other ideas?”

Dina shakes her head and grimaces. “I wish. Honestly, I’m not… I’m not very good at survival stuff.”

“We'll be okay,” Ellie says, more to convince herself than anyone else. Crawling through dank, flooded sewer pipes? Sure. Scrambling across collapsing rooftops with barbed wire below? Okay. But the wilderness… The wilderness was something else, a tightness gripping the place between Ellie's shoulders, an instinctual fear of the dark and unknown.

It was going to be a long way back to Jackson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks, hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Long Way Back! This has been a work in progress since last October, and is currently being beta'd by the lovely crusader_blue over on Reddit. HUGE shoutout to /r/fanfiction over there, too. They're a really lovely community. Thank you for reading and stay tuned for the next chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

Ellie lays her knife and pistol out in front of her. Alongside them, she sets down two bobby pins, an old yellow Bic lighter, and a lined piece of paper folded into quarters. Dina's name is scrawled in pencil on the front of it. Their combined inventory isn't much, but it's a start.

Ellie picks up the lighter, shakes what little fuel is inside of it, and flicks the rusty button on top. She tries it two more times before an orange flame pops out. She releases the button and sets it aside, taking her knife and pistol back. The rest belongs to Dina.

“Let's get some firewood,” Ellie says.

“Shouldn't we, like… like try and find the river or something?” Dina replies. She blows her shivering hands and glances up at the top of the ravine.

“No. We won't be able to see anything in the dark, anyways. If we can get up somewhere high, we can figure out which direction to go.”

It is, after all, how she and Joel managed to trek across major cities. The path there didn't matter as much as a general direction did.

Ellie ties her sneaker back on, the pain of her twisted ankle subsiding into a dull throbbing that fades with use. She finds softball-sized rocks nestled along the stream's shore and arranges them in a tight circle. The woods rush with noise as she scrounges for kindling, snapping sticks in half and peeling bark from birch trees, placing it all in the center of the stone circle.

In no less than fifteen minutes, Ellie brings a warm fire to life, a relief to her numb fingers. Dina sits on a pile of dead leaves with her arms around her knees.

“Do you think they're dead?” she asks.

Ellie shakes her head and stares into the fire. “I dunno.”

“Shit. This is… This bad.” Dina rests her forehead on her knees, groaning. “We were so stupid.”

“Look, you couldn’t have known a Clicker pack was coming for us,” Ellie replies. She breaks a stick in half and chucks it into the fire. “None of us could have.”

“Yeah… And now everyone's dead.”

“Maybe not. We won't really know until we get back.”

Everyone in Jackson came from somewhere; scattered souls all over the broken country sought peace within the settlement's walls, and escape the terror outside of them. Ellie had listened to their stories about dead families and loved ones lost to the infection or otherwise around midnight campfires and sullen poker tables. After a while, all of their hardships blended together. They fought their way to Jackson and bore their own scars, physical or otherwise. They were tougher than they looked.

“So,” Dina says with a decisive tone. “Tell me all about the great, brave Ellie.”

The change in topic catches Ellie off-guard. “What?” She picks absentmindedly at the mud crusted on her sneaker. She should have worn her boots. “Oh, uh… I'm not that interesting.”

“Mhm, bullshit. Okay, how about this: We turn it into a game.”

Ellie raises an intrigued brow. It had been a long time since she had played a game with anyone that wasn't looking to drink. Though, Dina's sly grin does make her wish she could summon a jar of moonshine.

“Okay. Sure. What is it?”

“All right. We'll each ask each other a question, and we both answer. No repeats, and no one word answers. If you can't answer--” Dina drags her index finger along her throat and gags. “You're out.”

Ellie's eyes narrow, but she can't fight the smile playing at her lips. “Easy enough. So how do you win?”

“You try to stump the other person.”

“All right,” Ellie replies with an inhale, summoning wit and courage. “Hit me.”

Dina hums to herself, soft and berceuse. Ellie silently wonders if it's a song from long ago, like the ones Joel knew. She doesn't doubt that Dina would make a good singer, too.

“Ooh, I got it!” Dina snaps her fingers. “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”

Ellie doesn't answer right away, but then she replies, “So, have you seen those pictures where people are all smiling and laughing with each other? They're usually on a beach or in a field, I think. Sometimes there's a lady with an umbrella even though it's not really raining. I think I'd want to go there.”

“I don't know if that's actually a place, but… I'll allow it,” Dina remarks. “I would love to go to New York. Before the outbreak, of course. I think in an alternate reality, I'd be on Broadway. Your turn.”

Ellie swallows. She suddenly wants to ask a thousand questions, but any one of them could bite her back. So, she skirts around them instead with, “What's your favorite color?”

“Green.” She says it without missing a beat. “How about yours?”

“Well… When I was a kid, it used to be orange.”

“What? Orange? Nobody likes orange!”

“I was a weird kid. Still kinda am.”

“I don't think you're weird.”

Ellie scoffs and shakes her head.

“They just don't know you.” Dina shrugs. “And… I'd like to know you. The real Ellie. What's she like? And why did she save me?”

Suddenly, the words Ellie wants to say get caught somewhere in her throat. She looks away and shrugs. “I lose.”

Dina purses her lips.

Ellie sighs. “Look, I… I don't actually know, okay? I mean, I don't even really know you.”

“You said you knew my name,” Dina reminds her. “If it was someone else, would you still save them?”

“Probably. I mean, yeah, of course I would.”

“And if you didn't know them?”

“Sure. Why not.”

“But you don't know why?”

“You know what?” Ellie begins, her voice rising with her temper. “No. This is stupid. I'm done playing. We should get some rest so we can get a move on when sunrise comes.”

Dina's smile falls. “What if I turned back? Would you come to save me then?”

A tightness knots in Ellie's throat. It could choke her, tears from buried memories blurring Dina's stubborn gaze and flames together. She blinks the tears back, glare softening, jaw clenched. Riley. Tess. Sam and Henry... 

“I would have saved everyone if I could.”

She doesn't wait to see if Dina's expression changes. Ellie pushes herself off the rock, kneeling next to the stream. No matter how hard she washes or scrubs her hands, nothing could clean their blood from her knuckles or dirt from her fingernails. She cups the cold water and splashes it on her face, feeling too hot. She runs it through her hair, clumps of it sticking together with blood and mud. She only pauses when a pair of skinny-jeaned legs block the light of the moon.

“I couldn't save them, you know,” Dina says softly. She hugs one elbow with her opposite hand. “My family. That's why they're not in Jackson with me. Everyone thinks I'm great, but the truth is… I'm not. I'm a coward. If it was you and not me back there, Ellie, I… I don't think I would have saved you. I don't think I could have. I'm not like you.”

Dina lays her hand on Ellie's shoulder. Ellie flinches and Dina recoils with her hand midair.

“Sorry,” Ellie sputters, pulse picking up pace. She had known Dina was there, but it was something else that startled her. It was the same reason her hands shook when she wasn't cold and why she couldn't sleep when she needed to, almost constantly anxious.

“It's… okay,” Dina replies, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She points at Ellie's right hand. “I've seen that before, y'know. All the soldiers have it.”

“You were a soldier?”

“Psh, no. Not the slightest. But my dad was, and my mom was a nurse. When I was old enough to push a crash cart, I was always helping out at the hospital.”

“Oh,” is all Ellie finds she can respond with. Thinking about the last hospital she had been in made her queasy.

Dina kneels next to her. “May I see?”

She holds out both of her palms to her. Ellie hesitates, searching Dina's rich, umber eyes for anything but kindness. Ellie bites her lips and hides her hands in her pockets, thumbs hitching on her belt loops. A bad feeling wells in her stomach.

As much as she wanted to tell other people she was infected, it wasn’t easy. Joel and Tess had only found out because a soldier had scanned her. She never told Sam or Henry. A part of her kept hoping that if she told someone, she would be liberated from an awful truth. If Dina moved her sleeve at all, she would see the horrid, mutilated yellow scar tissue.

“Maybe another time. I'll be okay. Really.”

“It doesn't hurt.”

Again, Ellie hesitates, shoulders stiffening. “Thanks, but… I'll be fine. We should get some sleep, anyways.”

Dina fixes her with a long, forlorn stare. She then stands, exhaling with her cheeks puffed out, returning to the place she had been sitting before. “You're one tough cookie.”

Dina bends the tall grasses underneath her slender frame, pulling her arms up beneath her cheek like a pillow. She rests on her side with her back to Ellie and the dwindling campfire.

“Goodnight, Ellie.”

Ellie sits with her back against the boulder. She pulls out her pistol, checking the magazine. Six bullets between them and the infected, if they returned. Not counting any bears, wolves, or lions they decided to prowl near. From here on out, every shot would have to count. Just like before.

She closes her eyes, but she already knows she won't sleep.

“Goodnight, Dina.”

+++

Somewhere between midnight and dawn, the fire low and the sky dark, Ellie dreams.

She dreams of Joel driving and her riding shotgun in Bill's pickup. Steady rain showers flare through golden sunlight and dark clouds, falling onto the windshield glass. They cruise through the forested mountain valleys. A rusted green sign flashes by: _90 miles to Salt Lake City_.

When Ellie looks at her lap, she’s in a hospital gown. “What the hell am I wearing?”

“Just take it easy…” Joel rumbles next to her, one fist on the steering wheel. “Drugs are still wearing off. How’re you feelin’?”

She knows that’s not what he said when she actually woke up from the hospital. He told her how the Fireflies don’t need her anymore.

When she glances in the rearview, the face of the Infected ranger snarls back at her. He bends her backwards over the tower railing. It's not real. None of it is.

“Fine,” Ellie replies. She looks away and back to the winding road ahead. They pass another sign: _242 miles to Pittsburgh_.

“You were out for some time,” Joel continues. “I musta listened to the whole tape three times over before you came to.”

He gestures at the truck's tape deck. A tinny, folksy theme twangs through the blown speakers.

“I like this song,” Ellie says, even though she's pretty sure it's different from the one that was actually in Bill's truck.

“You do, huh?”

He turns up the dial. Like the landmarks on the ranger's map and the cities they passed through, the words and old melody blend together. Joel knows them. His voice is surprisingly warm and mellow, like the sunlight striking the windshield.

“ _There is a house in New Orleans, they call the Rising Sun_ …”

Four and a half minutes later, the tape deck clicks and the music ends. _120 miles to Jackson_.

“Where are we going?” Ellie asks. 

“Let’s see where this takes us,” Joel replies, as it seems he had said a thousand times before.

The dream is almost like a memory, but everything is wrong and out of place.

“You need to be careful,” Joel says. He tilts his head at her window and when she looks, Dina sits across the bonfire pit, laughing with her circle of new friends. They drink moonshine from the mason jars and when Ellie looks down at her lap, she also has a jar, literally appearing out of thin air. She takes an experimental sip. It tastes just like it did on the night of the bonfire, spreading warm across her shoulders and down her throat, but there’s something else, too… Maybe lilac?

Ellie inwardly kicks herself. “Yeah. That was stupid. I didn’t even want to go.”

But, if she didn’t go, Dina wouldn’t still be alive.

Joel shakes his head. “Not what I mean, Ellie.”

He eases onto the brakes, whistling from the wet and rust as they come to a stop. A tawny-colored doe strides through blooming mountain flowers and crosses the road, her white chest shining like fresh snow.

“Well, would you look at that?” Joel murmurs. The doe’s ears flick towards them, frozen in place, marbled black eyes watching patiently. “She’s a beauty, ain’t she?”

Like the country song, the sight of the doe is oddly calming. Ellie breathes a little easier. “Yeah… She is.”

Neither of them see the wolf pounce from the side of the road. Its teeth dig into the doe’s haunches, splattering the pavement with bright red blood, tearing it down in a single strike. A throaty cry echoes from the doe as it strains against the wolf’s claws, hooves scraping on the pavement, when a savage snarl rips into its jugular and silences it completely. Hungry jaws crunch on tender marrow and swallows chunks of red, glistening meat.

Joel sighs. He cautiously angles the truck around the slaughter. When they drive past, Ellie sees no wolf and deer. Orange eyes, like the bonfire, burn back at her. It’s her reflection, bloodied knife poised over Dina’s dead body. Her arms are littered in bite marks. Infected.

“You need to be careful, baby girl.”

+++

Morning comes between silvery mists and ochre leaves. Sharp sunlight rouses Ellie from a stiff slump, still holding her pistol in her lap. She yawns, rubbing her eyes, swollen from lack of sleep. Dozing for ten minutes here and there throughout the night did not do her any favors.

Dina, however, slumbers on, oblivious to the finches and warblers singing their morning melodies. Ellie sits there, resting against the rock with the odd pinpricks and bumps that only count as comfort in the wilderness, wondering if she should wake Dina at all. Calm settles in her chest. If she's not careful, she could drift off to sleep as well.

So, Ellie pushes herself up with a pointed groan, stretching her arms above her head and popping the kinks in her neck. The hairs on her arms raise in the morning coolness, soon to lift with the fog for another beautiful autumn day. She swings them back and forth, getting her blood moving in anticipation for a long day ahead of them.

“Hey,” she calls. “Rise and shine.”

“No…” Dina moans, both of her hands covering her face. “Five more minutes… Ugh. I can't wait to be in my own bed again.”

Suddenly, Dina bolts up with a shriek, brushing her hands over herself and swatting away bits and pieces of leaf litter. “Ahh! Shit, shit, shit!”

Ellie freezes, one hand reaching for her knife and the other for her pistol, on edge and frantically scanning the yellow forest. “What is it? Infected?”

“No,” Dina replies, smacking her leg hard. “Fucking spider. I hate spiders.”

Ellie's hands slowly retreat back to her sides with an accompanied eye roll. “Hate to break it to you, but they were probably crawling all over you while you were asleep.”

Dina's eyes grow wide. She hugs herself. “No… No way, I don't believe you.”

“You've probably eaten some, too, and didn't know it.”

“Okay, now you're just fucking with me.”

Ellie smirks, kicking the stones around the dead campfire inwards, snuffing out any trace of smoke. Safe to say, no Infected or wild creatures had snuck up on them while they slept, but she knew it would only be a brief reprieve until the following night. They couldn't go back the way they came, and the creek, widening in berth as they followed the stony shore, curved like a snake between the Teton foothills. It was going to be hours, maybe miles, until they reached the dam.

Yet, as the sun climbs higher and brightens the cloudless sky into perfect blue, Ellie's lungs filled with the cool, crisp freedom that only fall could bring. The crunch of dead leaves underfoot, the swaying of tall grasses at her side, and the birds flitting between the cottonwoods was all she had begged, bargained, and pleaded with Joel to see. More than once, they came upon a statue-esque white heron, prowling the clear waters for the giveaway gleam of trout. Herds of deer gallop between the trees with chattering squirrels to follow. Everything in nature had a place and a purpose.

“Hey, Ellie! Slow down, I think I found something,” Dina calls from behind her. Ellie pauses, surprised at the sudden distance between them, engrossed with the feeling that only comes with bold freedom.

She doubles-back, jogging towards Dina, waiting beneath a lumbering cottonwood. The umbrella-like canopy rises over their heads and bends to the water as if to drink. “What's up?”

“It's over here.”

Dina wades through the grass and around the dark trunk of the tree, so thick that she vanishes on the other side. Dina shoves away a whole season's worth of dead leaves from atop something old, rickety, and manmade. Ellie pitches in, clearing the last of the leaves from a splintering plywood chest, the yellow logo on top long faded to a murky, circular stencil.

Dina looks at her with raised brows. “What do you think it is? Kinda looks like the Fireflies, doesn't it?”

“Maybe,” Ellie replies, apprehensive. She doesn't want to put too much thought into it, any mention of the Fireflies filling her with a cold, strange dread. The grasses reveal a thick, rusty padlock.

“Well crap,” Dina remarks.

Ellie crouches further, digging through the leaf litter until her fingernails scrape against something rough and solid. She hefts a half-broken brick in hand. “No big. But you're gonna wanna stand back for this.”

Dina takes three wide steps behind her. Ellie aims and chucks the brick at the padlock, the metal clanking and cracking, dropping to the ground.

“Fuck yeah!” she exclaims, beaming. “The Brick Master still has it.”

“Brick Master?” Dina echoes with a stifled giggle.

“It's an old championship title.”

Ellie hauls the lid open, coughing at the dust cloud that follows it, the hinges whining from disuse. Both peer inside, shoulders touching, and when Ellie turns her head she catches the faintest hint of lilac. They won't be in bloom until next spring.

“This… kinda sucks,” Dina says, reaching into the chest. She pulls out a ratty paperback novel, torn and soiled, flipping it over to read the cover. “ _A Sparrow's Death_ by… Oh, you can't read it. Hey, there's a note in here.”

Dina opens and flattens the water-stained book against her leg, creasing its spine to keep it in place. Ellie investigates the rest of the chest, discovering a pine cone the size of a football and a handful of pyrite nuggets, likely pulled straight from the creekbed.

“Joey,” Dina reads from the inside flap. “ _I'm sorry. This is the last cache before the ridge… And all I have is this dumb book to show for it. Maybe you can use it for kindling. You're a smart kid. -- Mike._ ”

Dina closes the book, but it pops back open. “Do you think he made it?”

Ellie doubted it. No one that took the time to leave a note or record a message ever seemed to make it.  
She wasn't sure what she had expected to find inside the chest, but a part of her had hoped for something more. A can of expired beans or corn would have been nice. Her stomach growls, remembering the bowl of beef stew Joel had made. She should have eaten it. Regret burns a hole where food should be. But… No. No, she didn’t regret it, because despite everything they had been through together, Joel thought she couldn’t take care of herself. He could have the whole damn stew to himself. It probably didn’t taste good, anyways. Joel sucked at cooking.

Dina keeps pace alongside her. “So… How'd you end up in Jackson?”

Ellie trudges along, kicking stones as she goes. It's a common question, but she struggles with the details. “It's… kind of a long story. Originally, though, I'm from the Boston QZ.”

“Boston? Damn, that's… far.”

The journey across the broken nation was almost two years ago. Bits and pieces stick out - Tess revealing the bite on her neck, Bill cutting down his partner's corpse, Sam turning and Henry pointing the gun at himself, David reaching for a butcher's knife - while the rest fades to background noise.

“Well, so is wherever you’re from,” Ellie weakly retorts, as if needing to travel far was something to defend, her hands shoved in her pockets. “Uh… Where are you from, anyways?”

“Los Angeles QZ,” Dina crows with pride, not missing a beat. “Born and raised since 2019.”

Ellie stops. “Hey, we're the same age.”

“Really? When's your birthday?”

“Uh… I don't actually know.”

“What!” Dina exclaims, like it's the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard. “How in the world do you not know your birthday? That's like… That's like not knowing that the sky is blue, or that rain is wet, or…”

“I grew up at the Boston Military Prep School.” Ellie pushes forward and shrugs.

Dina's face drops. Only those without families wound up in military schools, raised to become soldiers and ultimately, more fodder for the Infected. “Oh. I'm sorry. Now I feel like an ass.”

“Eh, it's not really a big deal. You can't really miss someone if you don't know them, can you?”

“You've never tried looking for your parents?”

Ellie hauls herself over a toppled cottonwood, the bark rotting with mold and moss, sneakers thudding in the leaves on the other side. “Why bother? They're probably dead.”

Dina is slower to climb over, stumbling when she lands. “I always thought that one guy was your dad.”

“Joel? Pfft. He might act like he's my dad, but he's not. He's more like my personal prison warden. He's probably freaking out I'm not home yet.”

“Gloria probably is, too.”

“The mess hall lady?”

“Yeah. She takes care of me and a couple of other kids. But, just between you and me? She might not notice I'm gone at all.”

“Well, if she doesn't notice, somebody will. Everybody likes you.”

“Mmm. I guess so.”

This surprises Ellie. She can't name a single person in Jackson who doesn't turn their head when Dina walks by, herself included. Come to think of it, every time she had, Ellie would make herself busy or try way too hard not to stare. Dina as her sole companion now did not help. She keeps her eyes locked ahead.

Across the stream, a shallow cliff juts out over cottonwood ravine. Through the ponderosa pines and sagging spruce trees, Ellie spies a wooden scaffolding with a square building at the top, looking over the entire valley. A rickety staircase climbs up to the top, a tattered flag hanging sadly from the metal lightning rod at the shingled roof's apex. Sunlight glares off drawn and dirty windows.

Ellie hops across the stream's many stepping stones. “We'll probably be able to spot the river from up there.”

A worn dirt trail takes them up and around the other side of the cliff. Ellie pauses at an old sign, the white paint chipped and the words _Cottonwood Tower_ carved into it. She cranes her neck up at the tower, one hundred feet in the air, its view from the top easily the best vantage point in the whole valley. The staircase wraps around the frame twice before spilling out to a narrow deck and into the cabin.

“Are we really going up there?” Dina asks, still standing by the Cottonwood Tower sign.

Ellie tests the first step, dark with mold and rot. It bows, but does not break. “I mean, you can go first if you really want to.”

“No way,” Dina shakes her head. “I don't wanna die today. You go first.”

“You sure?”

“Look, I'm afraid... of heights. There. I said it.” Dina crosses her arms and roots herself to the ground.

“What if…” Ellie begins, offering her hand before she can catch up with her words. She lets it hang awkwardly before rubbing her nose and wringing her hands together.

“What if… what?” Dina implores, closing the distance between them.

“Actually... Nevermind. It’s stupid, anyways.” Ellie says all very quickly, turning away. She wasn’t sure why she felt a sudden need to hold Dina’s hand, but it wasn’t the right moment. Shaking off her thoughts, Ellie moves to the first step. “Just follow me. If this thing does go down… Looks like I'll fall first.”

The staircase shudders underneath them with every step. Ellie guesses it must have been years since anyone went up or down them.

A board on the third flight breaks.

“Shit!” Ellie exclaims, stumbling back and watching it clatter into pieces on the ground below. “Jesus. Hey, uh, watch your step.”

“Fuck off,” Dina growls behind her five steps below her. She clings to the railing, even if it's as rotten as the rest of the staircase.

The stairs are narrow and steep. Ellie tests the next step with her toes before placing her full weight on it. Like all of the other steps, it bends, but it holds.

Unlike the staircase, the deck leading to the cabin is surprisingly sturdy. A wooden railing is the only thing that bars them from the ground below.

When Dina finally ascends the landing, she scowls at Ellie. “I hate you so much right now.”

“Hey, you made it.”

“Yeah, but we still have to get down.” Dina sighs and stands next to her. “At least the view is nice.”

Copper and evergreen forests carpet the tumultuous horizon. It's nothing but trees, rock, and sky in every direction. A silvery ribbon glimmers through the lowlands and vanishes behind a mountain already packed with crisp, white snow.

Ellie points at it. “I think that's the river.”

“That looks… far.”

“We can make it. It shouldn't take more than a few hours.”

“Ugh. I think my blisters have blisters.”

She's not wrong. Sneakers were not Ellie's first choice for wilderness hiking, her feet swelling and toes crammed together, feeling every pebble underneath the thin, rubber soles. She was used to it, at least, calluses hardening where her skin chafed against cloth innards.

“Let's take a break. We can see if there's anything useful inside.”

Ellie pulls at the cabin's screen door and it shrieks with disuse, practically falling off of its rusty hinges. She tries the doorknob, but it doesn't give. She knocks her shoulder against it.

“Hey,” she calls to Dina, still enamored by the breathtaking view. “Help me get this open?”

Dina nods and places herself opposite of Ellie, so that they face each other. “On three?”

“On three,” Ellie confirms. “One… Two… Three!”

The girls jam their weight hard against the door and it splinters open with a loud crash. A hysterical screech wretches from inside the dusty interior and a Stalker surges for Ellie's throat. She throws her hands up to its chest as it tackles her backwards, tripping over her own feet, bracing herself against the deck railing. It snarls close to her face, chomping its jaws like a Clicker. One orange eye leaking blood and zips wildly around in its socket, broken fingernails digging into her shoulders.

“Fuck… you!” She snarls at it, unable to reach for her knife. The railing squeals beneath her and the support beams crack. She wrestles against it, but it's too strong.

There's a hollow clanking sound and the Stalker whirls around, only to be bashed in the face with the bottom of Dina's handheld fire extinguisher. She pulls back and smashes its face again and again until she straddles it down into a mess of blood and bone. When it finally stops reaching for her, she chucks the fire extinguisher aside.

“Holy shit,” Dina says, staggering away from her kill. “I… I got him.”

Ellie rubs the new bruise on her back. “That makes us even, right?”

“Not by a long shot,” Dina replies, panting. “But… Damn. I've never done anything like that before.”

“It's a good thing you did.”

Ellie kneels over the dead Stalker. The green cap on what remains of his fungus-ridden scalp is twisted over a scraggly mop of blonde hair. She studies the green and yellow emblem sewn into his canvas jacket.

“ _US Forest Service_ ,” she reads aloud. “ _Department of Agriculture_.”

“What does that mean? He's a fed? Military?”

Ellie doesn't answer. She notes the way the skin hangs from his skeleton, and not because of the infection. She flicks out her switchblade and gingerly lifts up the collar of his bloodstained uniform. The bite on his shoulder is badly bandaged and grey with sprouting fungus. She wrinkles her nose at the smell and puts her knife away.

“I don't think so,” she finally replies. “I think he was living here alone until he got bit. Who knows for how long.”

Dina grimaces. “Poor guy.”

Like almost every other former living space, the inside of the cabin is a musty, clustered wreck. Ellie's sneakers thump over the remains of the cabin door, bumping with each step on the wooden floor. Dina investigates in the other direction, pulling apart the dust-laden curtains and wrenching open a window. Ellie inhales, the cool breeze a breath of fresh life, and sunlight fills the room.

A twin bed, already made, sits with a navy blue quilt in the corner next to a bookcase, one that she guessed housed all of the books and magazines now on the floor. A handmade desk of two wooden stumps and a single plank of plywood sits on the other side of it. 

Ellie pauses and picks up a flimsy photograph tacked on the corkboard sitting on top of the desk. A man with blonde hair holds a scruffy dog in one arm with his other around a woman's shoulders, her smile wide as she flashes the camera the diamond ring on her finger. They're in some colorful downtown area that probably no longer exists. Ellie frowns, recognizing the man as the dead Stalker on the porch behind her, and flips the photograph over.

In shaky, blue pen, she reads: _September 1993. Love you, sweetheart_.

Ellie lays the photograph on the desk, face-down. Next to it, she catches a hurried note on yellow Rite-in-the-Rain paper stained in blood. It’s not the same handwriting: _I pray to God I told that kid the right directions. My hands are shaking. I’m losing it. I gave him everything I could before…. Before I did something terrible to him. Someone out there needs to know what is happening. This isn’t some goddamn Rocky Mountain Fever… This is something else. Fuck. Everything…. Everything hurts so bad..._

She pries open a small tool cabinet under the desk. She picks up the bright orange flare gun with two shots taped into the handle, a package of stale chewing gum, and a sealed water bottle.It's not much, but it's better than nothing. She stuffs it into the canvas bag slung on the back of the desk's wooden chair and takes it for herself.

Dina, meanwhile, digs into the standing wardrobe. She pulls an olive ranger jacket off the hanger. She turns to Ellie, chin high and proud. “Hey, what do you think?”

Ellie turns. “Pretty grood.”

Dina stifles a giggle. “Grood?”

Ellie's cheeks burns and suddenly, she's stuttering again. “Good. Great.” She tries to shrug it off. “You know. Grood.”

Dina smirks, satisfied with her response, and crosses to a pedestal at the center of the room. She cranks at one of the two levers on the side. A thick ream of paper rolls with it. “I think it's a map of some kind. Can you find where we are?”

“I can try,” Ellie replies. 

Compared to Joel, her map-reading skills were less than stellar. Joel knew roads, cities, and landmarks; she recognized things as they came. After a while, everything just blended together and she knew what areas were okay, and which ones to avoid. There was Jackson City in the far corner of the map, but the Jackson they knew was somewhere deeper in what used to be called the Bridger-Teton National Forest, unmarked on a yellowing quadrant map that was well over fifteen years old.

Thankfully, the ranger that had lived in the cabin had put a big black X of where they now stood. Faded pencil marked the nearby trails: _Fireweed Trail - 0.4 miles, Wolf Den Walk - 6.6 miles, and Aspen Trail - 1.2 miles_. He also jotted down findings along the way, including an entire area crossed out in red pen that read **Do Not Enter!!!**

“So… Where are we?” Dina asks, craning closer to see. Again, Ellie catches a whiff of lilac and it makes her have to concentrate twice as hard on what Dina is saying.

Ellie leans closer into the map, and finally spots what she's been looking for. She points with her index finger at the slightly-thicker blue line snaking its way down the map. “That's the river. But… I'm not sure where exactly the Dam is. Or town.”

“Wait, that's not it?” Dina points at the clearly labeled Jackson .

“No. That's where Maria's team scavenges for supplies. It's always full of bandits, according to Joel. The settlement’s somewhere up the river, here…”

Dina groans and plops onto the bed, sinking her head into her heads. “Fuuuuuuck. This sucks so much. I just wanna go home.”

Ellie wouldn't quite call Jackson home, but it's close enough. “Me too.”

Giving up on the map, Ellie stoops down to a pair of blue cabinets, the paint chipped and peeling. She opens one of the doors and finds expired food cans.

“At least we won't go hungry,” she says, tossing a can of peaches at Dina.

“Yet.”

Ellie opens the door to the pipe stove. It looks as if it hasn't been cleaned out in a decade, charred bits and ash trickling out between the hinges and to the scratched floorboards. Ellie flicks out her knife, shoveling out the ashes with the flattened edge. When there's enough room for a new fire, Ellie crumples up the quadrant map and holds the yellow Bic lighter to it.

When the flame catches, Ellie smashes the flimsy stool next to the map's pedestal, ripping the stained seat and chucking it inside. It's enough for a short fire.

Ellie closes the grate and wipes the only pot on the counter with the inside of her flannel. Soon enough, she is splitting a hot pot of chicken noodle soup and eating peaches straight out of the can.

“You really know what you're doing, don't you?” Dina says quietly. She stirs the soup with the only spoon they could find, the steam rising in the brisk autumn air. “I wish I knew what you know. How do you do it?”

Ellie slurps the last peach directly from the can and into her mouth. It's a weird, slimy, and overly sweet lump. She sets the empty can next to her on the desk.

“I don't know,” she replies, her throat tightening. “It's just what I do. It's what I've always done. People never wanted to help me, so… I helped myself.”

Dina laughs softly and shakes her head. “That blows my mind, because all I've ever done is help other people.”

Ellie watches as her smile fades, eyes casting down to the floor, as if weighing something heavy on her mind. Ellie opens her mouth, about to ask, but a male voice shouting outside the tower cuts her off.

“Hey, Hugo! I know you're up there. C'mon down so we can have a little chat!”

Dina freezes and Ellie pulls her pistol out. Whatever Dina wanted to say was going to have to wait.

“Hunters?” Dina whispers in a panic, looking back and forth between Ellie and their only exit. “How did they know we were here?”

Ellie could smack herself. “Oh, fuck me. The smoke from the stove.”

“What are we gonna do?”

“Stay close and keep quiet.”

They abandon their meals and hunker beneath the windowsills, dirty curtains still fluttering with dust above their heads. Outside, chickadees twitter amongst two other distinctly male voices.

“Hugo! Hey man, no need to get pissy. Don't make us come up there!”

“Yeah! All's we wanna do is talk.”

Boots below stomp up the rickety staircase. Dina draws a sharp breath and Ellie holds her pistol firm, shoulder pressing into the wood-grained wall, trying to make herself as small as possible.

“Fuck this guy. How long do we really need to keep him around?”

“Boss wants him alive. Says he's good at finding shit in the woods or something.”

“Yeah, well when was the last time we saw any of that supplies? Been weeks since he traded us anything. Winter's coming.”

“Son of a bitch!” yells one of the hunters, all three now just outside the window on the balcony, stumbling across Hugo's dead body. “He fucking turned.”

“A while ago, by the looks of it.”

“So who killed Hugo?”

Their shadows grow in the open doorway and their rifles cock. One of them carrying a crowbar lifts it off his back and grips it tight in his hands.

Dina leans over Ellie's shoulder, breath brushing past her ear. “Can you take them?”

“I'll try. If I can't, you run. Got it?” Ellie whispers back.

All three hunters walk into the cabin, missing the girls immediately to their left. Ever so slowly, Ellie creeps up behind the man with the crowbar.

“No one's here. Where do you think they--”

“Behind you!”

Ellie springs, one arm latching around the man's throat, choking him and shoving her pistol at his temple. The other two hunters jump back, rifles pointing at her as her finger cradles the trigger.

“Let go of me, you bitch!” snarls the hunter in her grip, and as his two companions hesitate she cracks the butt of her pistol against his skull. He drops, the crowbar clattering to the floor, and in one swift movement Ellie ducks, dodging a blast from each rifle, picking up the crowbar and swinging it with one hand at each of the hunters. She smacks one underneath the chin and another in the arm, pivoting away as they yelp and stumble backwards. In their confusion, Ellie bolts for the door, shoving Dina out with her.

“Run!” Ellie shouts at her, the hunters recovering and reloading their rifles. She clears the corner onto the balcony as another round shatters the windows, glass exploding over her shoulder. They pound down the rotting staircase, the entire scaffolding shaking at their weight, ready to topple at any moment.

“Get those fucking girls!”

“Faster, Dina!” Ellie cries, another shot whizzing past her ear and splintering the handrail, wooden chunks flying.

“I'm trying, I'm try--oh, fuck!”

The board on the third flight breaks and both girls crash to the platform below. Dina tumbles onto her back and Ellie lands sideways on her, sharp pain jarring into her shoulders, the fall more shocking than the rifles firing and collapsing staircase now above them.

“You okay?” Dina asks, crawling out from underneath her.

“Go,” Ellie croaks, rolling over and pointing her pistol at the gap. She squeezes the trigger and a bullet punches into a hunter's boot on the ledge, about to jump down after them, his blood spraying and a furious cry ripping from his throat.

“Fucking shit! She shot me in the foot!”

“Get it together! After them!”

The hunters drop onto the second flight with them and the girls flee, Ellie firing a blind shot over her shoulder, missing but forcing them to flinch. Dina races ahead of her and Ellie skips the last six steps, landing on her feet in the soft grass, her free hand grabbing Dina's. They needed to stick together.

“This way!” she commands, veering to the right, away from the trail they came but not towards the river, either.

“They're headed for the trees!”

“Shoot them!”

Rifles bark and bite into the cloistered aspen trees, shielding them, the hunters stopping at the edge with barrels pointed between white-striped trunks. Ellie and Dina trip over the gnarled roots, a massive tangle swallowing up the entire forest floor, holding tight to each other as the angry shouts of the hunters eventually falls away.

“Aren't we going after them?” is the last Ellie hears as she hikes her knees up and over the increasing terrain.

“No. Let's regroup with the others. Those girls are fucking dead in there anyways.”

Finally, they can stop. Dina leans against an aspen tree. Ellie doubles over with her hands on her knees.

“Jesus, you can run,” Ellie comments, her throat thick with heavy breaths. Her head pounds and her legs are suddenly wobbly and confused.

Dina smirks between gasps. “It's the one thing I'm good at.”

Ellie nods. “We have to get back to Jackson.”

She stows her pistol away in the back of her jeans. Four bullets, now, between them and the rest of the world. Her right hand trembles once more.

Dina catches her, looking concerned. “Are you sure you don't want--”

“I'm fine,” Ellie snaps. She steadies it with her other hand and clenches it into a fist. Not now. “Let's find our way out of here.”

Like before, Dina concedes with a forlorn gaze, but says nothing. She picks up the canvas bag from the ground. It's more supplies than they had before, but somehow, it also feels like less. The white trees weave an intricate, ghostly maze all around them, their thick golden canopy blocking out the sun and blue sky, clouding them in shadow.

Dread fills Ellie's chest. They're now lost much, much more than before.


	3. Chapter 3

They walk with the wind at their backs. The hours pass in unnerving silence, Dina pacing behind Ellie, yet to say anything since they escaped the hunters. At first, Ellie chalks it up to the hard terrain, watching her footing as they crest hill after hill of yellowing aspen trees, an eternal upward struggle, but now she's not so sure. Without being able to see the river, she can only hope they're moving in the right direction.

The aspen chatter with the gust of wind, shifting and rolling at them down the valley, bound to bring winter soon enough. Ellie glances up between the gold canopy, grey clouds pushing into blue sky, and hopes she smells rain and not snow.

At some point, the climb flattens. Ellie pauses as Dina ascends alongside her. The forest still blocks any kind of vantage point. They break and lean against the tree trunks, passing the water bottle back and forth. Ellie is mindful not to let it touch her mouth. Dina drinks and still says nothing.

Ellie can't wrap her head around why she's being so quiet. Dina had peppered her with questions the entire morning. Ellie's lips itch, aching to break the silence and asks, "What do you call a cow with no legs?"

Dina perks up, the question completely out of the blue, her brow furrowed. For a moment Ellie thinks she's going to blow her off, but she very slowly replies, "What?"

"Ground beef."

Dina pauses. Smirks. Shakes her head and says, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Why can't bicycles stand on their own?"

"Why?"

"Because then they'd be  _two tired_."

Dina rolls her eyes. "Okaaay. You can stop now. Those are terrible."

Ellie rubs the back of her neck and wrings her hands together. "Did I do something back there to piss you off?"

"This isn't another joke, is it?"

"No."

Dina hesitates. She peels bits from the water bottle's faded  _Idaho Springs_ water bottle. "I'm not… pissed off at you."

"Kinda seems like it."

"Well, you know what you're doing, and right now… I don't. So I just want to help, but I don't know how if…" Dina pauses, bites her lip, and shrugs. "I feel guilty."

Ellie tilts her head. "What? Why?"

Dina takes a deep breath, crossing her arms, and kicking a tree root. "I have a confession to make."

"Uh… Okay?"

"Look, if it wasn't for me, the bonfire would have never happened. We would have never gotten attacked, we wouldn't have gotten lost in this stupid forest, we wouldn't have been shot at by hunters, we-"

"Hey, whoa, slow down," Ellie interrupts, watching the panic spread across Dina's face. She grimaces. "Stop blaming yourself. The bonfire probably would have happened anyways. They're always having those stupid things."

"Not this one," Dina replies. "I told Darren I had never been to one. He told Mikey, who told Cassie, and she put it all together just for me."

"So?"

"So, if I hadn't told anyone, we wouldn't be here right now." Dina sighs. "My family and I… We used to have bonfires on the beach back home. And now, that's gone, too. All I guess I really wanted was for things to be the way they used to be."

Ellie frowns, her insides sinking. "What happened to them?"

Dina shrugs with a dark scoff, crossing her arms and chewing on her lip, bitter. "The same thing that happens to every quarantine zone; LA collapsed, and… that was it. My brothers and I managed to escape the city, but everyone else…"

Ellie places a hand on Dina's shoulder before she can stop herself. "Hey. I… I get it. You don't need to explain it to me. And you… you don't need to blame yourself for that. That's not on you. That's not on any of us. It…it can't be."

Dina looks at her, umber eyes glistening, swimming back and forth between pain and relief. Then, a smile. A small one, but a smile. Ellie feels her shoulder relax under her hand. Dina wipes her nose with her sleeve.

"Thanks," she says. "You… You seem like the only one that gets it. I've tried telling other people, but they… I don't know. They think I'm faking it or something. That like, because I wear girly dresses or sing in the choir that I haven't lost as much as they have. That because I haven't suffered, I'm… lesser than them."

"And you're not," Ellie reminds her. "You just do what you have to do."

"Right." Dina nods. "We just… endure and survive."

Sudden elation swells in Ellie's chest and she can't help but grin. "You're a fan of Savage Starlight?"

Her childish joy brings out a bigger smile in Dina. "To the edge of the universe and back."

"Oh man," Ellie says. "I've never met anyone else that's a fan. That's so cool! How many comics have you read?"

Dina raises a brow. "Comics? There are comics?"

"Uh, yeah!"

"Oh, I only watched the movie."

Ellie's green eyes bulge with excitement. She had seen the posters all over Pittsburgh, but the idea of actually watching it was a far-fetched dream. "You've seen it?"

"Yep. It's pretty great."

"Ugh, I'm so jealous. Is it like the comics? What happens in it?"

Dina picks up the canvas bag, ready to start again. "Sorry. My lips are sealed."

"You suck," Ellie remarks with a playful smirk. She looks up at the sky, a gentle drizzle of rain rolling in. The breezy morning wind had become stronger, louder, and brings a distinct chill with it. "We should keep moving. It's getting dark again."

"How long do you think we have?" Dina asks.

"Maybe an hour," Ellie replies. There's no way they could hike back to Cottonwood Tower, and she wouldn't risk it with the hunters likely camping nearby. But, there was no flat ground where they currently stood, root balls tangling with rocks and dead trees. They had been moving in the same direction since the early afternoon, but for all Ellie knew, they also could have been walking in circles. "Let's go as far as we can. We won't get far without a flashlight or something."

Dina picks up the canvas bag, sighing with exhaustion, but follows Ellie to where she thinks the trees are thinning. Saplings sprout in dense clusters, Ellie and Dina shuffling sideways through them, crashing through grey branches. They dodge the tree roots, a knotted mat with patches dying grass, sneakers slipping over wet, yellow leaves. Silver mist creeps in around their ankles, rising slowly to her knees as they descend, coming from a break in the trees ahead.

"Well…we found the river," Ellie announces, stopping at the treeline. A thin rug of moss reaches out onto bare rock and drops down, down, down into the river nearly 200 feet below.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Dina sputters, reaching the treeline and then backing away from the edge, her hands reaching for the saplings to hold her up. "First sketchy staircases…and now this. Any way around it?"

"There." Ellie points at a mile or so downriver. An old railroad stretches over the river and across the canyon.

"Oh, lovely. A bridge. Because that's so much better than jumping off a cliff."

"We can make it."

They duck into the safety of the treeline, shielded from the drizzling rain, now parallel to the cliff.

"So," Dina calls. "When are we going to do something you're afraid of?"

"Hopefully never."

"Hmm… I bet you're afraid of spiders."

"Nah. Scorpions are way creepier."

"Okay…" Dina says slowly, tapping her chin. "If I was Ellie, I would probably be afraid of something outlandish and existential, like…your teeth falling out."

"I still wouldn't want that to happen, but no."

Dina sighs. "Help me out?"

"Maybe another time. I don't wanna jinx us," Ellie murmurs. "We're here."

The bridge stretches nearly 400 feet across the river. Thick trusses are still latched in place by solid gridiron, ancient and unbreakable. Plumes of mist rise from the river below and carve rust into the steel rails. Further below, timber scaffolding criss-crosses all the way down to the white, frothing rapids.

Ellie climbs up the weathered burm and to the center of the tracks. Her sneakers crunch on the gravel packed between the trusses.

"Hold up," Dina calls. "Did you hear that?"

Ellie pauses. The static roar of the river bellows up the canyon and washes everything else out. "No. What did you hear?"

"I'm not sure… Maybe some kind of horn?"

Ellie waits. She tries to listen above the river; a flock of chickadees pittering between the trees, the higher winds susurrus through the pines, and somewhere, a tree branch snaps and clatters to the ground. None of it remotely sounds like a horn.

"I'm not hearing anything," Ellie replies. She tightens the messenger bag's straps on her shoulders.. "It's probably the wind."

Dina hesitates and joins her on the tracks. "Sorry. I must be losing it."

"No, you're… you're fine, Dina." Ellie exhales. "We just have to get across. And then we'll rest."

Dina kicks at the gravel on the tracks and saunters to Ellie's side. She clasps her hand, clammy and tight.

"This is the only way you're getting my ass across," she says definitively, a mild quiver in her voice.

"I know." Ellie holds her hand firm in response. "Let's do this."

A frigid gust of northern wind blindsides them. Ellie hunkers down against it, her insides whipped with cold, the sweat on the back of her neck feeling frosty. Dina whimpers and Ellie keeps her steady, letting her press into her shoulder.

For a moment, she thinks she hears a whistle. But it can't be anything but the wind, or maybe the lonely howl of a wolf.

The gust lessens, passing like a wave. Ellie leans forward. "C'mon."

Thin ice slicks the railroad tracks beneath them. They make slow progress, stepping together, the spaces between the trusses almost as wide as their feet are long. They watch the rocks give way to the racing river.

"I'd normally say don't look down, but…"

"Kinda hard not to," Dina sputters back. She clutches Ellie's hand in a vice, knuckles white. It hurts, but Ellie doesn't let go.

And now, she hears the horn. A long, brassy note blowing through the misty valley makes both girls freeze in place.

"That's what I heard before!" Dina exclaims.

"But what…" Ellie begins, but a bright flicker catches her eye. She looks over her shoulder at something on the tracks rounding the corner. "Oh shit. Oh shit. Dina, we gotta move!"

"Ellie, what is that? A train?"

She doesn't want to answer, tugging at Dina's hand. "I don't want to find out. We're almost halfway across."

The wind pushes against them, as if trying to dissuade them from crossing the bridge. Dina interlocks her arm with Ellie's, scared of falling through the gaps in the railroad trusses, unable to keep her eyes off the river rushing below.

Ellie glances over her shoulder and she stumbles. Light curves around the bend with another long, eerie horn blast.

"Move! Move!" Ellie hustles. She untangles her arm from Dina and jerks her hand as she sprints, bridges be damned.

The light is directly behind them now. More than one hundred feet of bridge still lays ahead.

"Ellie, we're not going to make it!"

"We will! C'mon, stay with me!"

The tracks tremble with thunder. Ellie sends a silent prayer to the other side of the bridge, pleading for it to come closer. She's running for her life yet again.

"Ellie!"

Dina falls facedown on the tracks, her foot wedged between the trusses. Ellie almost slips, catching herself as her wrist wrenches free from Dina's grasp, spinning around.

"Come on, get up, we've gotta go!" Ellie panics, reaching under Dina's arm to yank her to her feet.

Dina yelps in pain. "Stop, stop! I'm stuck!"

"Well try again," Ellie says, pulling harder, but Dina is caught tight, jeans stuck on something underneath the truss. "Fuck!"

"Just go!" Dina shouts over the airhorn, squealing again. "Go without me!"

"I'm not leaving you!" Ellie declares, furious that Dina would even suggest such a thing. "Okay? I'm not leaving you, now come-"

"Ellie!"

Both girls raise their hands to shield themselves from a pair of blinding headlights, bracing for impact, but it doesn't come. Orange sparks sputter from the steel rims of some sort of truck and screech to a halt.

"Oh shit," Ellie mutters, paralyzed like a deer in the headlights. Like the deer from her dream.

"Go hide!" Dina commands, pushing her away.

"What? Fuck no, I'm not-"

"I've got this."

"But-"

"Just go, Ellie! Trust me!"

It's wrong on every level. With one final look, Ellie abandons her, fleeing for the dark, overgrown cover of the railroad ditch. She buries herself amongst the dying brush and leaves, pressing low to the cold, wet earth. From under a scraggly bush, she squints into the headlights, discerning a railroad service truck of some kind, elevated to ride the train tracks. Corrugated steel plates the hood and sides like armor, crudely welded together with thick patches of melted metal. Black exhaust chugs out the rusted tailpipe, the diesel engine idling as the passenger door wrenches open, someone emerging, and then slamming shut.

Fuck.  _Fuck_.

Ellie holds her breath between clenched teeth. The driver emerges after the passenger hoisting a hunting rifle under his arm, aiming at Dina.

"Hands in the air!" he barks, loud enough for Ellie to hear him over the wind.

Dina flops back and throws her arms up. "Please! Don't shoot. Please, I need help, I'm stuck."

The passenger says something in a rough, low voice to the driver. Ellie doesn't catch it and she crawls closer, straining to hear.

"Give us a reason not to run you over like the rest of them," the driver growls. He gestures at the unrecognizable body parts ensnared in a nasty tangle of barbed wire lacing the truck's front bumper.

"No, no," Dina replies, her voice high and terrified, wanting to inch back further than she already was, still stuck in place. "Please, please don't do that. I… I can be useful. I can help you."

The passenger says something again Ellie can't hear. She swears under her breath, sneaking closer, but still avoiding the headlights, sticking to the shadows. She watches at the driver approaches Dina, lifting her chin with the barrel of his rifle, as if inspecting her like a butcher on the lookout for the next fine cut of meat. He says something, but Ellie doesn't need to hear what it is. She knew the reasons why there were no female hunters, and it had to do with exactly what Dina was offering in exchange for freedom.

The driver kneels down to help Dina up, when the passenger suddenly grabs him back, saying loudly, "Wait, what if this is a trick? Wasn't there someone else with her?"

"I'm alone," Dina replies, looking back and forth between them. "There is no one else. I… I swear."

"You know what… I think you're right," the driver replies. "How do we know you ain't fakin' this so your little friend can steal our shit when we ain't lookin'?"

"I… I'm not faking it," Dina sputters.

"So where'd you get that pretty jacket?" He points at her dark green ranger's coat. Dina's mouth gapes, caught in the lie, and the driver grins, predatory. In a voice Ellie can barely make out, he says, "I've got an idea. How about we keep you, and you can still make yourself useful. And we'll go take care of your buddy in the woods, there. You won't need to worry no more."

Dina is speechless. Satisfied, the driver stands, and whistles with two fingers in his teeth. Two more hunters emerge from the cab of the truck. "Find the other one!" He points at the passenger. "And you, help me get her into the truck!"

"What? No, no, no!" Dina cries, thrashing as the passenger tries to help her free, but she's just as stuck as she was before. "Get off of me! Get off!"

Ellie's fingers curl into the earth. She can't just lay there. She wants to gut all of them with her own two hands. She springs to her feet and takes refuge in the arms of a fir tree. Thick, evergreen needles camouflage her in the dark, shielding her from the wandering flashlights of the two approaching men. The rough bark pokes into her back as she flattens herself against it.

"You, check over there," one of them mutters to the other, and they nod, splitting up.

Ellie holds her breath. Boots thud over fallen conifer needles not even five feet away from her. She clutches her knife in her fist. She'll not only have to be quick, but quiet.

The hunter passing her starts to go further down into the ditch. Ellie slinks in the shadows behind him, her footsteps significantly lighter than his, and when he stops to investigate a rocky outcropping, she gains the high ground. She has the advantage.

Ellie catches him by a fistful of hair and jerks him back, pressing the knife across his throat so that instead of a warning shout, it's a muffled gurgle, her hand clapped over his mouth. He thrashes and she cuts deeper, his blood hot and slippery and staining her bare hands, until he flops dead in her grasp.

She lays his body gingerly down to the ground, as if there hadn't been a struggle at all.

"Hey, man, where are you? It's dark as shit out here."

The second hunter with the flashlight comes closer. Ellie backpedals, hands fumbling behind her, and grasping a large, chunky rock. She hurls it over her head. It clanks against the rails and the hunter's flashlight darts to it.

She can't attack him from behind, now, but she can from underneath.

Ellie thrusts her knife into the hunter's soft calf and he doubles over with a startled yell. He turns with a balled fist and pain crashes through Ellie's skull, knocking her away as hands suddenly choke her throat. She gasps as the world spins, the man too heavy to fight, and her hand reaches for something,  _anything_ , and her fingers curl around a rusted railroad spike. She swings hard into his temple and cold air rushes back into her lungs. He's on his hands and knees and she clocks him again, so that when he does fall this time, he doesn't move.

"Motherfucker," she seethes, ripping her knife out of his leg.

"Ellie, watch out!" Dina screams and a shotgun explodes past her left side. The passenger, armed with a sawed-off shotgun, advances down the tracks, pumping and blasting at her shadow at an unnervingly rhythmic pace.

_Step, step, click, boom._

She scrambles down into the ditch again. The shotgun follows.

_Step, step, click, boom_.

She almost trips on the first hunter's body. She kneels down, thrusting his body over. He has nothing. Nothing at all.

_Step, step, click, boom._

"Quit running, bitch," the hunter growls. "You got nowhere to go!"

Ellie dodges behind a tree, but this one isn't as nearly covered as the first. She freezes. He can see her and she knows it.

_Step, step, click-_

_Click._

He's empty.

With a savage roar, Ellie throws all of her weight against the shotgun, catching him by surprise. He jerks the gun back and slams the stock into her ribs. It's the kind of blow that knocks the breath right out of her and she gasps through the pain as he hits again, feeling something deeper inside break. He doesn't need to pull the trigger to kill her.

Ellie stumbles back, unable to breathe, and when he pulls back the gun one more time for another strike, she plunges her knife down onto his arm. He roars, dropping the gun, and she stabs him in the gut once, twice, and then three times. He starts to fall backwards and Ellie jumps, driving the knife into his eye socket, giving it a lethal twist.

Dina screams, almost hoarse. The driver tears her up from the tracks' unmerciful grip and to her feet, one fist clenched around her arm.

Ellie's slippery fingers dig in the dead hunter's pockets and she finds one final cartridge. She props the shotgun on her knee and loads it, breathing hard as she hikes back up onto the tracks, and into the full bloody view of the truck's headlights. Dina fights the driver, shoving him away and taking only a few steps before falling down again. Ellie presses the shotgun stock into her shoulder and takes deadly, precise aim, knowing full well that it could be her only chance.

_Step, step, click..._

"Oh shit-"

_Boom._

Lead and carnage splatter the entire hood of the truck. What remains of the driver flops on top of it in pieces.

"Dina!"

Ellie drops the empty shotgun and runs to her side.

"Are you okay?"

Dina looks at her, wide-eyed and horrified, mouth agape. Ellie's entire front and hands are covered in dark, sticky blood. Dina flinches as Ellie reaches for her.

"Ellie…"

"I'm fine," Ellie replies, despite a terrible, fiery pain in her ribs. "It's… It's not mine. Most of it, anyways. Think you can stand?"

That seems to ease Dina's fears, but not by much. "Uh, yeah… Yeah, I think so."

With a helping hand, Dina staggers to her feet. She looks back at the truck, still running, no longer recognizing the driver. She shakes her head, mouth opening and closing. She looks past Ellie and up the train tracks, noticing the trail of blood that follows, at least one of the bodies in plain view. Finally, she meets Ellie with wide, glassy eyes.

"Jesus, Ellie… How… Where do you even learn to kill someone like that?"

Ellie's heart hammers in her throat. This part…This hideous, nasty, brutal survival part she thought she had quietly buried was something Dina was never supposed to see. She trembles with adrenaline. Sweat and tears sting her eyes. She doesn't answer because she doesn't have one. It's instinct. A piece she will never be able to remove.

"We should get out of here," Dina decides. "You know, before… before others come."

Ellie nods. She can't speak without wanting to burst into tears. They scavenge the flashlights from the dead bodies and push forward into the dark, not saying another word.


	4. Chapter 4

The train tracks take them up, down, and around the cold, black mountains, their journey arduously slow. Ellie clutches her side, wheezing and going nowhere fast, every breath ragged and painful. Dina steadies her, draping an arm around her shoulders, pushing them onwards.

"C'mon, Ellie," she says in response to every horrid breath. "Just a little further."

"Says you," Ellie pants back. Her fingers, still covered in blood, dry and stick together, pressing to the tenderness in her ribs. They hurt, but they're not broken. She clenches her teeth. She'd had worse pain. She could pull through this. Dina was counting on her to get them back to Jackson.

Every now and then they stop, passing the water bottle between them and taking smaller and smaller sips from chapped lips as it emptied. Ellie shivers in her blood-soaked flannel, the wind much calmer since leaving the railroad bridge, but no less cold. Snow, or at the very least frost, was lurking somewhere in the mountains, ready to descend like a crashing, wintry wave.

"Take this." Dina removes the ranger's jacket and helps Ellie into it instead. Ellie winces as she lifts her arm into the jacket.

"You don't have to," she rasps.

"You're hurt. I can't let you get sick, too."

Ellie grunts, but she knows Dina is right. They alternate flashlights, conserving the batteries, the beams of light bouncing between the dark, neverending woods and the railroad tracks. Leaves and earth cover most of the trusses, dying weeds sprouting around the rusting rails. They were supposed to stop hours ago, before they even left the aspen forest, but the encounter from the hunters rendered them both unable to sleep. Now, they were watching a blue sunrise highlight the lines of compressed granite and marble on the cliffs next to them.

Dina stops and Ellie follows her gaze. "Shit."

A monumental rockslide of colossal boulders, jagged rocks, and broken trees had spilled over the tracks and tumbled down the other side, blocking their path.

"End of the road," Dina remarks. "Unless you think you can climb that?"

"I'm injured, not stupid. There's gotta be a way around." Ellie scans the impasse with her flashlight again, searching for a hole to squeeze through, when her light catches something shiny in the woods. She returns to it and the twin headlamps of a white pickup truck reflect back. "Hey, look! There's a car over there."

Dina clicks her flashlight on. The passenger door of the truck is wide open, a faded US Forest Service logo marking the chipping paint. Rusting rims sit on rotting rubber tires, and withering brown vines creep inside the seat, curling around the steering wheel and gearshift. A blackened skeleton slumps over in the driver's seat, an empty bottle of whiskey still held in a bony hand, moldy clothes hanging ragged from his remains.

"God, that's creepy," Dina says as they walk over to it. "What do you think happened to him?"

"Probably the same thing that happened to the other ranger," Ellie replies, poking her head into the cab. She spies a rusted box cutter next to the skeleton, crusted with old, dry blood. This one had decided to end it before the infection spread. It's an observation Ellie keeps to herself, fishing into the glove box instead. She pries it free from the spider-webbed vines and moss growing over the worn leather. A pile of dirt, two broken cassette tapes, and a flutter of water-stained papers tumble out. Ellie picks up one of them, and reads something scrawled on it in pencil:

\---

_Ranger's Log_

**8/16**

Wrapped up this season's trail building with the SCC. Good kids, hard workers.

**8/20**

Busy weekend. 35/52 occupied sites, 4 RV hookups.

**8/31**

Hot. Reminded a couple of hikers to stay hydrated.

**9/2**

Labor Day Weekend. Lots of campers. Boy Scout Troop 437 enrolled in the Junior Ranger program.

**9/13**

Busy weekend. All sites full. 7 RVs. Comms down between 1200 and 1700.

**9/15**

More campers. Late registration fees. People are setting up between sites. Remind campers not to leave campfires unattended.

**9/21**

Called in backup from the Wildwood Ranger District. Their campgrounds are also overbooked. People are camping on the road. Fucking budget cuts! Comms were down again, 0900-1400.

**9/22**

Comms down at 0800. 

**9/23**

Arrested at least thirteen people today for disorderly conduct. Too many fucking people in one spot. One of them bit me. Filed a Health & Safety form and will submit on the next mail drop-off. Comms still down.

**9/24**

Sick. Joey came to check on me. Told him to get away, might be contagious. Can't eat or sleep. And this bite… Treated it with First Aid. It hasn't done shit. I need to get to a hospital.

**9/25**

Last log. I'm not going to make it. I have to end it.

Joey, if you find this, get to Cottonwood Tower. Mike and Hugo will help you. Stay away from here.

\---

Meanwhile, Dina peers into the empty truck bed. A dark streak of blood slathers down the tailgate, as if a body had been loaded and then dragged back out.

"I don't like this," Dina says, gripping her flashlight tighter. "Maybe we should turn around."

"And go where?" Ellie replies, less frightened by the grotesque discovery but equally exhausted. Her chest aches, her feet are frozen, and her stomach cramps with hunger. If they turned back, none of that would change. They might run into more hunters. "This looks like it used to be a road. We can at least see where it goes."

Dina is less than thrilled. "Ellie… I'm not sure following strange paths in the woods is a good idea. What if we just… I don't know, waited here?"

It dawns on Ellie that it isn't fear that's holding Dina back. Dina's optimism is almost enough to laugh at. "Dina… Nobody's coming to rescue us."

"And how do you know? We keep moving like this, it's no wonder nobody can find our trail," Dina snaps. "How do we know the others aren't out searching?"

She was right. Anyone that had survived the attack at the bonfire and made it back to Jackson would have raised the alarm. Worried families would want to find their kids alive and form search parties. She wondered if Joel would be among them, lips tight and brooding, or if he would rather be patrolling the wall, stubbornly refusing to search for her, letting her eat her words.

" _I said, I don't need protection_."

Ellie shakes her head and starts down the grassy path. "And what if they're not, Dina? What if they've just assumed we're all dead? We've gone far enough already. I'm not going to sit around and wait to see if they catch up."

"So, you would leave me behind?"

Ellie walks further and then stops, grimacing at a dim, slate sky shrouded by swaying pine trees flecking raindrops off evergreen needles. She pivots around, jaw clenched, but does not walk back over to Dina.

"No."

Dina approaches her instead, quick and indignant, umber eyes locked into a steadfast glare. "Really? Because all I seem to do is slow you down. You could be halfway to Alaska by now."

Anger bubbles in Ellie's throat again."Yeah? Well, I haven't. And I wouldn't. I'm trying to get us both back to Jackson alive. Sorry if that isn't good enough."

"I don't know, Ellie. I've been chased by infected, shot at by hunters, almost crushed by a train car, not to mention cold, tired, starving, and…" She falters, turning her glare to the muddy ground. She crosses and then uncrosses her arms, fidgets with the blue bracelet on her wrist, and finally resorts to stick her hands in the pockets of her lavender hoodie. She sighs. "And… There's something else."

Ellie blinks, confused. "What?"

"How do I know you're on my side?"

Her question steals any words Ellie could have said, her mouth suddenly very dry. Sweat collects on the back of her neck. Panic of Dina learning about her infected condition quickly replaces any anger. She can't find out. It could ruin everything. "What? Dina, I don't… What are you…"

"I saw the way you killed those hunters," Dina replies with a dark, careful tone. "And I know why your hands shake."

Ellie's brow knits in concern. She's not sure she wants to know.

Dina licks her lips and points at her hands. They're still covered in blood. "It's a condition that soldiers have. Their hands shake, and sometimes they freak out at things that aren't there. They don't sleep, but when they do, they have nightmares. Bad ones. They think someone's trying to kill them, even when they're safe."

"And… You think that's what I have?" Ellie asks slowly, skeptical, as if Dina could guess any other kind of condition she might have.

Dina hesitates. Sighs. Looks her in the eye. "I'm positive, Ellie. And it scares the living hell outta me."

Ellie tenses. This wasn't the way that things were supposed to be. "I'm not crazy, Dina."

"I'm not saying you are. I'm trying to say I've seen the signs. You need help, and that's all I've been trying to do. But every time I do, you…you push me away. So, why should I bother staying? You can take care of yourself. You don't need me."

"I do need you," Ellie blurts out, as if it were gut instinct instead of embarrassing truth. She fumbles for words as her hands reach for Dina's, squeezing them and holding them firm. "Just… stay here, okay? We're in this mess together and… and I'm going to get us both out."

Something strong and primal tugs at Ellie's core and she suddenly realizes how overwhelmed she is by Dina's lilac perfume, mingled with sweat and dirt. She wants to run her fingers through her hair and kiss her warm, supple lips. It's a desire she hasn't felt in years, if ever, her blood rushing in her ears.

But she can't. She shouldn't. She knows better. All it would take is one kiss to get Dina infected.

Ellie takes a step back, wringing her hands together and then swinging her arms, shaking the nerves away. "So… Yeah."

"Oh. Yeah," Dina replies, just as flustered, olive cheeks tinted pink. "Are… Are we good?"

"I think so. If you wanna stay with me, I guess."

Dina blows a raspberry over shoulder. "Without you, I'll end up like that guy. So, looks like you're stuck with me."

Ellie nods. She's relieved, but her stomach ties itself into knots. She passes it off as hunger.

Half a mile later, they reach a ratty barbed wire fence coiled around shoddy wooden fence posts. A weathered _Trail Closed Until Further Notice _sign dangles from a single nail. Ellie ignores it, using a discarded wooden plank to press down on the barbed wire, making it easier to cross. It would take a lot more than that to keep her out of places she shouldn't be.__

"Do you think anyone still lives here?" Dina asks, hiking through the tall grass, the twelve foot wide path once neatly mowed.

"Only one way to find out," Ellie replies. She checks her pistol's magazine. Four bullets still remain. Her hand trembles as she holds it and slides it back in. "So… You really think I have some sort of condition?"

"It's the most logical answer. I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't. I wouldn't have known." She's about to say she doesn't remember the last time she saw a doctor, but that isn't true. It was all a haze, filled with bright lights and strange, clinical smells. She vaguely remembers hearing a high-pitched alarm and gunshots, but she can't be sure.

Joel, Marlene, and the Fireflies were there. She knew that much.

+++

They find the hunting stand just before sunrise. Dina goes first up the wooden ladder, turning around and reaching her hand back down for Ellie to grab. Pain shoots through her whole left side as she grasps Dina's hand and is pulled over the edge and into the meager shelter. She crawls to a spot in the corner where she can prop herself up, each breath stinging and shallow.

"How you holding up?" Dina asks, concerned but still standing.

"Fine," Ellie replies through gritted teeth. She tucks a hand to ribs, feeling them swell with every pulse. "See anything?"

Dina looks out from the hunting stand and frowns. "Not really. It's kinda just a big grey blah with all this rain. Lotta fog."

"Fuck."

Ellie rests the back of her head against the wall. She closes weary, bloodshot eyes and tries to remember all the different ways someone could get to Jackson without a map or even a road. A settlement of three hundred people was nothing more than a speck in the vast wilderness and mountains surrounding them. If Tommy had never told Joel that Jackson even existed, Ellie doubted they would have been able to find it at all.

A thought occurs to her. Most survivors in Jackson had come with what remained of their family and friends. Dina had arrived all on her own.

"Hey," Ellie calls to her. "How did you find Jackson?"

"Pure dumb luck." Dina sits down opposite her. She presses the soles of her shoes to Ellie's sneakers. She massages the leg she had twisted on the train tracks. "After Salt Lake City, I joined a group headed to Seattle. They said it was safe there."

Ellie does her best not to look too alarmed. She must have made a face, because Dina quickly follows up with, "We were trying to find the Fireflies."

"Oh," is all Ellie finds she can safely say.

Dina scoffs. "Right? Waste of time, considering they're all dead now. So fucking stupid." She pauses, long and pensive, holding onto something she can't let go of. She shakes the feeling off. "But yeah. Me and this other group heard that there was 'salvation in Seattle'. Honestly, I was too much of a wreck at the time to even know what that meant. I still don't. Anyways, we were all separated when some military caught onto us in Casper. I managed to run and hide long enough that when the fighting stopped… I was the only one left. I figured I would go to Seattle on my own, but then I came across Jackson. And so… I stayed." She snorts. "For a while, anyways."

Ellie smirks at her irony. "Pure dumb luck, huh?"

"Dumber than a box of bricks."

"Hey, which is heavier: a pound of bricks or a pound of feathers?"

"A pound of bricks," Dina replies instantly, and then scowls. "Hey… Wait a minute… You clever little shit."

Ellie chuckles and suddenly breaks into coughing. She gasps and clutches her ribs, hot pain wracking through her whole left side. When it subsides, she clunks her head against the wall again. "Gah. Fuck me. This fucking sucks."

Dina leans forward onto her knees. "Would you mind if I took a look?"

It's a question that would have normally brought the butterflies back to her stomach. It wasn't just about undressing; Dina having a look meant taking off the jacket, and taking off the jacket meant taking off the flannel, and taking off the flannel meant showing Dina the scar she wanted to tell everyone and no one about. Ellie keeps a hand on her ribs, as if protecting them from view.

"I'll be okay," she replies.

Dina takes her at word. She doesn't sit back in her corner, and instead puts herself at the side opposite of Ellie's injury. She hooks their arms together.

"It's cold over there," she says, laying her head on her shoulder.

Ellie is too exhausted to protest. She rests her cheek on the top of Dina's head. They are warmer together, if only by a little bit.

She likes it.

+++

Heavy footsteps thud underneath the hunting stand. A chuff of breath and a soft whine is all it takes to snap Ellie awake. She freezes, listening hard to the leaves crunch and brush rustle right below where she and Dina are sitting. Something down there keeps moving.

And there's more than one.

"Dina," Ellie whispers. "Dina, wake up. We've got company."

Like Ellie, Dina snaps awake with an alarmed inhale. Her gaze locks with Ellie's in the dwindling light. "What do we do?"

"See how many there are," Ellie replies, pointing where the ladder meets the ledge. She crouches forward, holding back the cough that wants to erupt from her throat. She flattens herself against the floor, trying to see better through the crack, but all she sees is shadow and dead raspberry bushes. She doesn't dare speak.

Dina creeps to the ladder and peeks over the ledge. "Ellie. Come here, quick."

Ellie draws her knife from her belt, her silent companion, creeping next to Dina, ready to jump off the ledge and stab whatever Infected that was prowling around.

But it wasn't an Infected. And it wasn't a hunter.

Relief floods through her. Ellie closes her knife and watches as a herd of deer browse the raspberry bushes just below the hunting stand. The biggest one, an eight-point buck, walks with the heavy footsteps that had woken her.

"Isn't that cool?" Dina whispers with a stunned grin.

Ellie struggles to steady her hand. "Super."

It comes out sarcastic, but she has to admit that it is pretty neat. She's never been this close to a deer before, let alone a whole herd.

For a few minutes, they watch the deer in comfortable quiet. Ellie keeps an eye on the buck and he keeps an eye on her, unblinking as he eats with the rest of the does, sticking close to them. He lets the rest of his herd know by bumping his square nose against their flank. One by one, they shuffle along into the deep woods, tweed hides melting with the shadows.

"Damn," Dina says. "Have you ever seen anything like that?"

"Sorta."

"Sorta?"

"I've pet a giraffe before." Ellie smiles at the memory, and watches as surprise crosses Dina's face.

"What? No way."

"Well, I don't mean to brag, but…"

"You're totally bragging."

"They must have broken out of a zoo or something. They were all over the place. We were walking through an old terminal, and it was funny because I saw it and Joel didn't, so I ran ahead and he was all, 'Ellie, slow down! Ellie, I'm an old man, wait up!' and then we see a whole herd of them. One of them came up to us, and well…" She shrugs, smug and casual. "I got to pet him."

Whether Dina could tell or not, it was one of her favorite memories. There were so few pieces of her history she could look back on unmarred.

"You," Dina says, pointing a finger at her, "are one of a kind, Ellie. Just like a giraffe."

It's enough to make Ellie blush.

Dina scoots over the ledge and jumps down. "Think you can make it?"

She knows she can make it, but it's going to hurt. Ellie hops down, cringing hard, and she flings a hand out before Dina can help her up. "I'm good. I'm good."

"All right. Twenty bucks says there's a house nearby."

"Twenty bucks?"

"Okay, twenty-five."

"Ass," Ellie mutters, but the light humor helps her ignore the pain.

The rainy drizzle from earlier that day turns steady. A bitter chill promises sleet and slush, the mountain weather quick to change without warning. Ellie and Dina trudge along the old service road, dark green grass reclaiming gravel patches, and rain collecting in deep, muddy potholes. Long, low thunder growls from behind the mountains encircling the one they're on, tall and judgemental, refusing shelter or passage.

Ellie pulls up the hood of the ranger's jacket, water beading off the top. Dina does the same with her pullover hoodie, cinching the strings to keep her hair and ears dry.

Then, Ellie stops. "Shit."

A fork divides their path. Gangly spruce trees bow to the path on the left that curves out of sight. To the right, the path narrows and slopes gently downhill. One could lead them somewhere, or they both could lead nowhere, further into the heart of the mountains.

"Shit," Dina echoes, just as stumped. "Which way?"

Ellie frowns. It's anyone's guess at this point, the river hidden far from view. Ominous grey clouds are settling in and another growl of thunder rolls from the darkening sky, closer than before. Ellie shuffles her feet, looking back and forth between the two paths, neither looking promising.

"Well… Jackson's down in the valley, so…" Ellie looks to the right fork. "Maybe this way?"

Dina pauses, gaze lingering on the other path, as if a beacon would descend and point them in the right direction. Nothing happens and she follows Ellie down a series of long, steep switchbacks. Steel guardrails with a fine coat of rust and sleet barricading them from falling over the edge. Dense, grey fog lazes over treetops and roils around the distant, snow-capped mountains.

The worn grooves of the service road dumps them out to what used to be a meadow, aspen saplings crowding along grassy edges with juniper shrubs sneaking underneath. A two-story log cabin sits in the center, flanked by two husky firs, orange needles and moldy pinecones collecting in overflowing gutters.

Ellie whistles. "Shoot. Looks like I'm out twenty bucks."

"Twenty-five," Dina chimes. "How do we get inside?"

Wooden planks bar the front door closed and plywood stands in every window. Mud squelches under their sodden sneakers along the cabin's side. A blue tarp weighed down with water and bricks slumps in frayed pieces over rusted ATVs and snowmobiles. They round the corner to the back of the cabin, a lonely hatchet still stuck in a stump next to chopped firewood stacked four feet high.

"Up there," Dina says. Green curtains billow out from a second story window.

"There's gotta be a way in," Ellie replies. She retraces her steps to the collapsed tarp on the side of the cabin. An aluminum ladder juts out between a snowmobile and a heavy industrial saw. She tugs on the end of it, gritting her teeth at the pain ballooning in her ribs again, but it doesn't budge. "Hey. Help me get this out."

Dina jogs over and grabs the rungs. "Whenever you're ready."

"One, two…" Ellie braces herself. "Three, pull!"

Metal on metal screeches in protest, and with slow steps they pry it from the dilapidated junk pile. Something catches on the other end, and with a strained yell Ellie pulls harder. The ladder snaps and both girls fall backwards as the brick-laden tarp collapses.

"Fuck!" Ellie exclaims, kicking the junk now trapping the ladder. "Stupid fucking thing! Who the fuck puts a ladder right here, anyways?"

"Idiots." Dina stands and reaches out a hand, hauling Ellie to her feet. "You okay?"

Ellie wipes the mud from her hands on her knees. "Even if I wasn't, I don't have a choice…" She groans, glaring at the mess in front of her. "Whatever. Stand on top of the wood pile and see if you can boost me up. If I can reach it, I can let you in from the other side."

Dina stares at the her, apprehensive, but nods. "Just be careful in there, okay?"

"I will."

Again, Ellie feels a strange yearning in her chest, the need to show or tell Dina something more. Whatever that is, she decides, will have to wait as Dina jumps onto the wood pile, kneeling and lacing her fingers together. Ellie climbs up the other side, puts her foot into Dina's hands, and with a shared grunt, Ellie scrambles for the open windowsill. Her fingernails dig into the rotting wood and she hauls herself into a musty office, flipping over the edge and onto the floor, sharp pain threatening to rip her in two. Tears dot the corners of her eyes and she bites her sleeve to keep from crying out as she hears a familiar clicking and squawking echoing from somewhere in the house.

"Ellie?" Dina calls from outside. When Ellie doesn't immediately answer, regaining her pride and balance, she calls again. "Ellie! Is everything okay in there?"

Ellie sticks her head out the window with a finger pressed to her lips. Dina claps her hands over her mouth, looking wildly over her shoulder, as if the Clicker was right behind her. When she looks back to the window, Ellie is gone.

Ellie exhales and pulls out her knife. "You can do this. You've done it a hundred times before."

The self-motivation propels her legs forward, crouching around an executive desk laden with curling plastic binders and forgotten files. An American flag gathers dust in a dingy corner. She dodges the discarded piles of wildlife encyclopedias and presses herself to the open door frame, poking her head around the corner to a wood-panelled hallway adorned with grimy trophy plaques. She freezes, listening hard for the Clicker's labored breathing, coming from somewhere on this floor.

She tiptoes into the hallway and the floorboards groan under every step. The Clicker barks and Ellie readies her knife, but it doesn't come after her, lurking in a room further away.

"Where the fuck are you?" she mutters, reaching for the next room's doorknob. She gently pushes it aside and creaks on its hinges, revealing another office, but more modest than the first, with more filing cabinets and less bookshelves. A hideous, taxidermy beaver sits on metal desk. Ellie moves onto the next room across the hall, also pushing the door aside, revealing another modest office. Clickers didn't play games, but Ellie wasn't so sure what this one was doing.

Suddenly, clunky footsteps stagger nearby and Ellie ducks against an overturned bookcase, the buzzing prowl of a roaming Clicker raising every hair on her head. Clickers can't see, but Ellie can't shake the unmistakable feeling that it's watching her, fungal crown glowing neon orange, bloody frills stroking the air for any unusual vibrations. Saliva sputters from pale lips and broken, rotting teeth, dripping down sallow jaws above her head. She keeps her eyes shut tight, every bit of her clenched still, invisible.

Glass crashes from somewhere inside the cabin. The Clicker whirls, drawn to the noise, and Ellie seizes her chance. She jumps up and the Clicker screams as she shoves her knife into the back of its head, pinning her knee between its shoulders, wrestling the blade deep into its infected brainstem. She yanks the knife free and stabs it three more times, the Clicker still screaming. A moment of confusion passes at the sound before she realizes that the scream is coming from outside the cabin.

"Ellie! Ellie, get out here, now!"

"Dina!" Ellie yells back, panic surging through her. Bloodied hands search the Clicker's torn green uniform and comes up empty.

"Ellie!"

"Shit. Shit!" Ellie sprints for the head office and nearly throws herself out the window. Two Runners burst from the woods and Dina cowers from them. Ellie snags an encyclopedia and chucks it at one of the Runners, clocking it in the head and forcing it to stumble enough and give Dina a chance to retreat. "I'm coming for you, Dina! Hold on!"

"Hurry, Ellie!"

Ellie races out the head office, through the hallway, and down a flight of stairs. She darts for the front door and slams her full weight into it. Sharp, vicious pain crackles in her head and is so strong she doubles over with nausea.

"Fuck!" she cries, listening as Dina's screams escalate into sheer terror. She needs to get out there now.

Ellie backs up, head spinning, and charges at the door. It blows wide open with an explosive _crack!_ , splinters flying as she slips and crashes into the mud. Her entire body splits in two, darkness and white spots popping in her eyes, Dina's screaming muffled and ringing at the same time.

Animalistic adrenaline pushes through the pain and Ellie runs between the black spots of her fading vision, scrambling for a brick from the tarp pile. She sends it sailing in Dina's direction, voice cracking as she shouts, "Hey! Fuckfaces!"

The brick clacks on one of the Runner's shoulders, but it ignores her, swarming with a second Runner over to Dina instead. Ellie musters together a burst of speed and rips the hatchet from the stump. She swings it back like a baseball bat and sinks it into the first Runner's chest, plunging into its ribs with a sickening series of pops that vibrate up the splintering handle. She kicks the flailing body and slices the blade across its neck, black blood gurgling from its shredded throat.

She looks over her shoulder just in time to see Dina with a brick of her own, bashing the other Runner's skull and bones into the earth.

But it's not over. Four more Runners and a Clicker stream like insects from the woods, drawn to the noisy action.

"Ellie, what do we do?" Dina asks, wide-eyed and reaching for another brick.

"Keep… fighting," Ellie struggles to reply, flitting in and out of consciousness. She pulls her pistol out and aims with one hand, her left side going numb, firing four rounds at the Runners and missing all but one. They're too fast to aim at and even when she lines up her shot, the trigger clicks, empty. Ellie squints through the rain. Thunder booms inside and outside her head as she keels over, knees splashing into the mud, her head swarmed by an all-consuming blackness she can no longer fend off.

The last thing she remembers is Dina above her.

"Ellie? Ellie, wake up! Ellie, hold on, please hold on! Stay with me! Ellie!"


	5. Chapter 5

A heavy, impenetrable cloud of blackness meets Ellie as she regains consciousness. Her whole body throbs, mouth dry, disoriented murmurs fading in and out as her head spins.

The whispers become sharper, clicking, louder and louder until panic sends her reeling, fiery pain erupting from her ribcage. It's not over. They're still outside the cabin, still under attack in the pouring rain, and if she doesn't get up now, Dina will be dead. She can't have that. She won't have that.

"Fuck… you!" she snarls through the agony. She reaches for a weapon that isn't there and flails in the dark, shoulders pinned down. "Get off of me, you bastard!"

"Ellie! Elle it's me, Dina! You're okay. You're okay."

The Clicker's face, a blurred mess of orange mushrooms, softens as Dina's silhouette appears above her, but it's only brief. Pain overwhelms her and the blackness pulls her in again.

"Dina?" Ellie mumbles back, but her voice is weak, distant. She's not sure if it's her voice at all.

She sinks back down, down, down. It's like drowning; dark and unable to breathe, her chest compressed with weight. Something bright pokes through the blackness. It's the kind of white that only comes with winter, stark and cold, and yet brimming with death. Wind howls through flimsy wooden walls, flames sizzle in powdery snow, and smoke wafts in a thick, sinister layer above her head.

A voice. Soft, perverse, and oily comes from deeper inside the burning restaurant. Ellie recognizes it immediately, skin crawling and drawing her knife, unable to erase the voice from her deepest nightmares. She creeps around the broken dishes and spots David's hunched, lanky figure strolling down the aisle, machete in hand.

"I know you're not infected," he purrs. "No one that's infected fights this hard to stay alive…"

Not again. Not again. Rage and disgust rise in the back of her throat. She has to get away from him, shimmying around the opposite corner, towards a haphazard stack of luggage near the kitchen. She inches across the slick tile floor when she sees the bloody deer tracks, leading out to a hole in the building and the whirling blizzard outside. It's the eight-point buck.

"You know, you keep surprising me," David croons, suddenly behind her. Ellie shuffles away for the dining room again as he rounds the corner. "It's a shame you wouldn't come around. Give up now and I promise to be quick. Promise."

"Yeah, go fuck yourself," Ellie mutters. It's the last thing she would ever do. She creeps towards the statuesque deer, standing there and waiting for her. If she can make it to him, she can escape. Get back to Joel, and get the fuck out of this place.

"It didn't have to be this way, you know," David purrs. He stands between her and the deer. "You brought this on yourself. You did."

Ellie launches from her hiding place and drives her knife into his stomach, twisting it as he smacks her away with the hard handle of the machete. She stumbles as he swings, shattering glass cups left on the table. Ellie coughs, the pain in her ribs still there, disappearing through the thickening smoke and out of range.

"I knew you had heart. Y'know, it's okay to give up. Ain't no shame in it. I guess not… Just not your style, is it?"

A ferocious snarl rips her off her feet and pins her to the floor. David is gone, an enormous wolf snapping black jowls in her face, saliva flecking her cheeks as she reaches for the machete, just out of reach. Searing pain shoots in a familiar place of her right arm, the screams of the Infected just beyond the restaurant walls, as if knowing she had become one of them.

"You can try beggin'," David pants, torn somewhere between wolf and man. "You think you know me? You have no idea what I'm capable of."

Her hand finally closes around the machete. A pathetic yelp and she slaughters the beast, warm blood sticking to her hands and splashing on her chest as she brings the machete down over and over and over again, mutilitating the wolf-man into gory, unrecognizable pieces.

That is, until she spots the blue bracelet around a slim, severed arm. The machete clatters to the floor.

The shadow of the deer draws near. Joel leans down, grazing his thumb along what remains of Dina's delicate hand. He looks to Ellie.

"You need to be careful, baby girl."

No. No, no, no. That's not what happened and that's not real. It can't be. It's a nightmare that brings her to the surface again, into a room lit only by flickering candles, distancing herself from the subconscious terrors.

Or, so she thinks. The very wolf from her nightmare stands with two bloody paws on her chest, pressing onto her swollen ribs. Bright orange eyes like a Clicker's gleam, curious and hungry, a subtle growl in every breath. It wants something.

"Hey, your girlfriend's awake."

The wolf vanishes. Ellie bolts up at the unfamiliar voice, her head screaming at the motion, and reaches for the pistol on the nightstand, pointing at a strange woman standing at the foot of her bed. Everything hurts, but even only half-awake she can still switch off the safety and curl a finger around the trigger. The gun trembles in her hand.

"Who the fuck are you?" she rasps.

The woman throws her hands up in the air. "Easy."

Something suddenly moves to her right and Ellie swings the pistol to it, aiming at a little boy with a blue baseball cap.

"Mom?"

"Get away from her, Liam." A cold, metallic shotgun cocks and the woman shoves the barrel at Ellie. "I swear to God if you shoot him, I will blast your brains all over this goddamn room."

"Ellie!" Dina exclaims from the doorway, only now walking into the room. She dumps a metal tray of dishes onto a spare nightstand. "Ellie, please, put the gun down."

"Her first," Ellie spits, jerking the pistol's nose at the woman.

"Not until you take your gun off my kid!"

"Ellie, listen to me. She's not going to hurt us," Dina presses, hands outstretched and easing her way towards them, as if she were stepping between the fight of two wild animals and not people. "She's a friend."

At this, Ellie hesitates. Hazy confusion returns as she lowers the gun, her breathing slowing and the sharp pain in her ribs returning. For a moment, she's not sure if she's still dreaming, catching a whiff of lilac as Dina sits down on the mattress next to her, taking the pistol and laying it back on the nightstand where it belongs. She presses the back of her hand to Ellie's forehead.

"Your fever's finally breaking," she comments, ignoring Ellie's hard glare at the woman over her shoulder. The woman glares back, tucking the shotgun under her arm. The little boy clings to her cargo pants.

"Who the fuck is she, Dina?" Ellie asks, still bristling.

"I told you, she's a friend," Dina replies. "Her name's Rachel. She's the one that saved us from the Infected."

"And the kid?"

Rachel takes a step forward. "His name is Liam. You're welcome, by the way."

"We didn't need your help," Ellie snaps.

"Oh, so you had it all under control?" Rachel scoffs. "You were lucky we were passing through when we saw the flares."

"Flares?" Ellie echoes, looking to Dina.

Dina fishes out the flare gun from the ranger's messenger bag next to the nightstand. "I didn't know what else to do, Ellie."

Ellie turns back to Rachel. "So… You, what? Take daily walks in the mountains for fun?"

Rachel is not amused. "If you really need to know, we're on our way to Seattle. The mountains are the best way through."

"You mean the only way."

"Hey!" Dina exclaims. "Will you two cut it out? We're all on the same side, here. There's no reason to fight."

"I'm not fighting," Ellie is quick to reply.

Rachel crosses her arms. "Neither am I."

"Then chill out, both of you," Dina says, voice sharp with irritation.

Ellie leans back against the pile of flattened pillows propped up behind her. "Fine."

"Fine," Rachel snorts, and heads for the door. "Come, Liam. Let's give these two some privacy."

Liam lingers for a moment, his big blue eyes on Ellie, when Rachel calls his name again. He toddles after her with a disappointed, "Okay."

They close the door behind them. Dina gets up and retrieves the serving tray she had set aside when she walked in, placing it on the nightstand next to Ellie. She pours hot water from a dented, metal percolator into a chipped mug with a cartoon bear on the front. Cheesy lettering reads  _Only YOU can prevent forest fires!_

"How are you feeling?" Dina asks.

It's a question she's asked plenty of times before, but this time, it feels… different. Somewhere between fighting off Infected and fever dreams, Ellie lost her shirt and flannel, now lying exposed in a black tank top. Something rubbery radiates warmth under the blankets, resting against her inflamed ribs, now wrapped in crude bandages. Pink sears her cheeks at the realization that Dina was probably the one to undress her.

But then she notices the scar on her right arm is bandaged, too.

Her heart jumps to her throat. Dina knows. She has to know by now. It would be impossible for her not to.

Dina shoves the mug and two small, red pills at her. "Take it."

"Dina-"

"Take it, Ellie," Dina repeats, more forceful this time, and with a tenacious scowl, Ellie does. The pills are chalky and astringent, and she washes it down with a pungent, citrusy tea from the mug. If she had to guess, it was made from pine needles and the juniper bushes outside. She coughs, pain stabbing her in her side.

Dina shakes her head. "Do you have any idea how stubborn you are? Why didn't you tell me you were hurt this bad? Your ribs are fractured. You're lucky they didn't break and hit anything major."

But Ellie doesn't care about that. She sets the mug down and throws the covers aside, starting to get up. "Dina, we need to get back to Jackson."

"No. You need to rest."

"I'm good."

"Ellie," Dina snaps, putting a hand to her shoulder and preventing her from standing. "You're not good and you know it."

"And who are you to stop me?"

"Will you just sit down and listen to me?" Dina pleads. "You're not invincible. You've been out for two days."

Ellie pauses. It doesn't feel like two days. One moment she was killing Infected in the rain, and the next she was waking up somewhere on the second floor of the cabin. "Two days?"

"Yeah. Which is why you need to take it easy. You're not ready to move around yet."

Ellie hates that she's right, her stubbornness alone wouldn't get her very far. Eventually she relents and tucks her legs back under the sweat-stained covers.

"So, what do you want me to do?" Ellie asks, frustrated, directing her glare out the window instead of at Dina.

"I want you to rest," Dina replies. "That's all. I swear."

Dina reaches for Ellie's hand, her thumb grazing her calloused palms. Her touch is tender and kind, pulling Ellie's glare away from the window and softening as their eyes meet.

"I was really worried about you," Dina says, her hand tightening. "I know you don't like her, but if Rachel hadn't come…"

"I know," Ellie replies, filling in the blanks as she closes her eyes, finally relaxing. It did feel better to lie back and just breathe, despite the nagging urgency to return to Jackson in the back of her mind. "What about you?"

"I'm… all right," Dina replies. She glances at Ellie's arm, wrapped in bandages. "All things considered, you know?"

She smiles, not questioning Ellie's hidden scar. Ellie nods, brow furrowed but pushing the revelation to the back of her mind. For some reason, she could just tell that now wasn't the time to discuss her infected condition.

"Yeah. I guess we're doing okay."

They sit there, listening to the pouring rain and gentle thunder. It's enough to lull Ellie back to sleep. Dina blows the candle out, but she doesn't leave, climbing up on the mattress and pulling the blankets over herself.

"I get nightmares," she whispers, as if sharing a bed was something to justify. She curls her body around Ellie's arm, as she had done in the hunting stand. Even in the dark and with a mild fever, Ellie feels herself blush, cheeks hot. She scoots aside to make more room.

"It's okay," Ellie replies, fixing her eyes to the dark ceiling. "I get them too."

+++  
  


The mountains trap the storm and it rains for two days straight. Water leaks through the ceiling and the chill sneaks in under the doorways. Ellie tries to sleep, listening to the gentle rushing of rain on the shingled roof, but every time she closes her eyes, the wolf from her nightmare appears.

Between the pain in her side, the candlelit room, and the bizarre dreams, she wonders if she is losing her mind.

" _I've seen the signs,_ " she remembers Dina saying. Did that mean whatever condition she had was getting worse? Ellie still couldn't fully comprehend what that condition even was, too distracted by the one that already coursed through her veins and sprouted all over her brain. She should be dead, and yet…

" _There are a million ways we could've died today,"_ Riley echoes from a distant memory.  _"And a million ways we could die before tomorrow."_

Ellie forces herself to sit up. Her ribs still hurt, but not nearly on the scale that had landed her incapacitated in the first place. She can't stand wallowing in bed any longer. She needs to get moving.

Her bare feet touch the cold, wooden floor and she shuffles to a folding chair propped near her bed. She finds her jeans, mostly clean from mud but still stained with blood, but there's no sign of her flannel. Instead, she finds a green, mothballed dress shirt with the name  _Greenbriar_ embroidered in yellow on the breast pocket. She buttons it up, finding it a little big, but otherwise a suitable fit. It was by no means flattering, but it would do.

Crossing to the nightstand, she finds her knife and pistol tucked into the drawer. She knows just by holding the gun that the magazine is empty, spent on Infected, but she checks just in case, sighing as her efforts bear no fruit. One bullet in the chamber could have make all the difference down the road.

Down the road. Back to Jackson. Who knew how far off the beaten path they were now? And all of it unmarked, uncharted terrain.

But a hard road ahead isn't enough to deter her. Ellie scopes out the rest of the room for her belongings. For a moment, she panics, grabbing at the center of her chest and finding nothing there, but then she spots Riley's Firefly necklace hanging on the bedpost. She exhales and puts it on, back where it belongs.

Then, after extensive searching, Ellie pauses in the middle of the room. "Where the fuck are my shoes?"

Pots and pans bang outside in the hall, and waves of something hot and delicious wafts her way. Increasingly frustrated and now with hunger demanding her attention, Ellie opens the bedroom door and makes her way to the kitchen.

Before she even steps foot in the doorway, Rachel spots her from the dining table and stands up immediately. She picks up two bowls of food and nudges Liam on the shoulder. "Come. You can eat in the living room."

Dina, mid-stride with a third bowl of rice and beans, watches the exchange. She looks to Ellie. "What did you say to her?"

"Nothing," Ellie replies with a clueless shrug. She'd been bed-bound for the past four days. "She probably just doesn't like me."

"Or it may have something to do with you pointing your gun at Liam."

"What does she want? An apology?"

Dina gives her a knowing look.

Ellie rolls her eyes and throws her hands up. "Fine, fine. I'll talk to her."

A hot, dry fire crackles from the stone fireplace. Liam sits on the floor in front of it, his bowl of food ignored for a pair of Hot Wheels cars rolling around on the crummy carpet. Like the kitchen, Rachel spots her, this time standing up from her place on an overstuffed plaid couch. She steps forward, standing between Ellie and Liam, crossing muscular arms. She scowls with daggers in her blue eyes.

"Hmm?" is all she says from a deep, intimidating place in her throat.

"Look…" Ellie says carefully. "I'm sorry."

Rachel raises a single eyebrow. "For?"

"For… For pointing a gun at your son."

"Damn straight."

"Look, I just…" Ellie clenches her jaw and exhales through her nose, growing irritated. "I just wanted to apologize. That's all."

"You want to apologize?" Rachel says incredulously. She maintains her glare, but drops her arms, glancing over her shoulder at Liam. "All right. I need a favor. And I'm guessing you're better in a fight than your girlfriend."

It's an assumption that brings a red flush right to Ellie's cheeks. "She's not my-"

"Whatever," Rachel says with a dismissive wave of your hand. "Thing is, we can't go anywhere without more supplies. All that's here is food. There's a campground two miles away I'd like to check out. I'm thinking we go there, re-supply, and head out at tomorrow's first light."

She doesn't wait for Ellie's reply, peeking between one of the plywood sheets blocking the windows. "Rain's stopping. We should go before it gets dark."

"Uh, sure…" Ellie says and looks down at her bare toes. "But… I'm gonna need my shoes. And I'd like to eat."

Rachel's already counting shotgun shells. "Fine. Make it quick. Ten minutes tops."

Ellie curls her lip, but says nothing. She turns around and heads back into the kitchen. Dina looks up a copy of  _Natural Wildlife of Western Wyoming_ laid out in front of her. "So? How'd it go?"

"In ten minutes, we're going to gather supplies," Ellie mutters, downcast, shoveling her bowl of rice and beans into her mouth. "There's apparently a campground two miles from here."

"No way," Dina replies. "You still need to rest. You move around too much, you'll do more than fracture your ribs. Please. Don't go."

"I have to, Dina. I can't stay in that bed any longer." She swallows and pushes her empty bowl away. "And… Thank you. For taking care of me."

"You're welcome," Dina says softly. She reaches for Ellie's hand still curled around a fork missing the middle prong. Ellie's head rushes at the touch, licking her lips, and yet again she finds herself wanting to say something else, but a strange anxiety grips her throat and keeps her from saying anything at all. Dina smiles, but then frowns, squeezing her hand. "When will you be back?"

"Rachel says before dark." Ellie exhales, tension knotting in her stomach, squeezing Dina's hand back. Like when Dina laid her head on her shoulder, Ellie finds she doesn't want to let go. But she has to. "Have you seen my shoes?"

"I'll get them for you," Dina replies, standing, and heads into the living room. She grabs them and a pair of wool socks from the fireplace hearth, the canvas dry and the worn, rubber soles warm. She drops them at Ellie's feet.

Ellie leans over to put them on and pain ripples up her side, her hand reaching for it, as if she could stop it. She sits back up with a sharp inhale. "Ah, fuck."

"I've got it." Dina kneels down before Ellie can protest. She starts with the left foot, scrunching up the wool sock to pull it over Ellie's toes, moving up and folding the extra fabric around her ankle. She does the same with the right, and then pulls at the shoelaces, widening the tightened canvas. She starts with the left again, slipping the sneakers on with a gentle push. She double-knots them, tight but not too tight, and then looks up with eyebrows raised. "Well? What do you think?"

"Uh…" Ellie is torn between being embarrassed and mesmerized. "Thank you…again."

"You're welcome," Dina replies, just as soft as she did before, hands lingering on Ellie's knees.

Combat boots scuff near and Rachel pokes her head around the corner. "Hey. You ready?"

Dina springs back as Ellie stands. She's thankful for the dark, cloaking her reddening cheeks. She clears her throat. "Yeah. Let's go."

She follows Rachel for the busted front door, glancing at Dina one more time. Dina's dark, glassy eyes make her want to stay, but Ellie turns her back. She had a job to do.

+++

Hiking to the campground with Rachel is everything Ellie expected it to be: grueling, downhill, and difficult. She trails behind Rachel, gritting her teeth and trying to ignore the dull throbbing in her side, not sure if she's more irritated at Rachel's ruthless pace or the fact that she struggles to keep up. Suggesting a break was out of the question.

Neither of them bother with small talk.

The steep, rocky trail spits them out to a small valley. A lonely guard shack with multi-colored flyers say things like  _WARNING: BEAR TERRITORY_ and  _CAMPING FEES_ are still taped to the cracked windows. Rachel and Ellie duck under the drawbar, shoes crunching on gravel, a different road leading into the campground. They cross over a wooden bridge floating on a flooded creek shrouded by willows and meandering between campsites.

"Keep your eyes peeled," Rachel snips, sliding her shotgun into a ready position. "There's bound to be more Infected here."

"No shit," Ellie mutters under her breath. They pass tent after tent, collapsed and blooming with vomit-colored mushrooms. The recent rain had dampened the signature yellow spore cloud, but Rachel ties a black bandanna around her face just in case. She walks over to the wet grass, cushioning the sound of their footsteps as she pokes each collapsed tent with the tip of her shotgun. She moves methodically, investigating one tent and marching over to the other, finger cradling the trigger every time.

"So… Where you headed?" Ellie asks, finally able to talk without her ribs complaining.

Rachel crouches down and lifts a tent flap. It's a whole family, skeletal arms still around each other and clothes hanging ragged. Black and white patches of mold cling to their bones, pink fungus sprouting from the marrow. She doesn't even flinch.

"Just start looking for supplies," Rachel replies in an annoyed deadpan tone, digging into another tent.

Ellie should have expected as much. She had the strong feeling that traveling with Rachel was a lot like her early days of traveling with Joel: distant, stern, and easily irritated. She makes herself useful by picking through a different row of tents, overcrowded on each site, as if spending a few days in the mountains would have spared people from becoming infected. There were still charcoal briquettes in barbecue stands, ice coolers tipped open with empty beer bottles scattered around, and picnic tables with torn, red-checkered tablecloths. Like everywhere else in the world, it was as if people had been going about their normal lives when the Cordyceps struck.

Ellie kneels in front of a neon green tent. Raindrops bounce off the vinyl and run down the sides as she pulls at the zipper, the metal teeth rusted. When it doesn't budge, she tears a hole with her knife. Spores coat the inside vinyl as she tugs out a duffel bag and two backpacks, taking care not to touch the dead bodies still resting in the moldy sleeping bags. She scavenges for food, medicine, and ammunition; anything that could keep them alive for just one more day.

She finds an award of some kind and an oversized photograph tucked in one of the backpacks. Black ink runs down the award certificate, edges frayed and wrinkled, reading:

_The Boy Scouts of America_  
_is proud to award the rank of_  
_EAGLE SCOUT_  
_to_  
__**Joseph A. Hamilton**  
_Troop 437  
_ _Jackson, WY_

A profile picture of a teenage boy around Ellie's age is printed into the corner of the award. Like the ink, the colors run down the page, washing out his smile and uniform. She compares it to the photo of the whole troop, and spots the boy, much taller than the rest. A blue badge gleams proudly from his khaki vest.

She decides to leave both the award and photograph in the tent, placing them next to one of the sleeping bags with a body still inside. She spots a blue badge pinned to a khaki vest through one of the tears, the stuffing sticking together with dried blood. She exhales at her discovery.

"Sorry, Joey."

She respectfully decides not to purge the rest of the tent, and nears the edge of the campground instead. The gravel path continues to a maintenance shed shrouded by overgrown bushes and conifers, blending almost seamlessly into the alpine forest.

"Hey," Ellie calls to Rachel, pointing at the shed. "Let's check that out."

Rachel purses her lips and strides past her, shotgun still at the ready. When they reach the shed, she slings it off her shoulder before gripping the pull chain to the metal storage door. It groans, rust flaking free as it opens with a horrible screech, Rachel using her full weight to hold the chain down. Ellie scans the forest for Infected, and when she sees none, she ducks underneath the gap.

"Any day now," Rachel grumbles.

"Gimme a sec," Ellie mutters, lip curled. She grits her teeth as she shoves three cinderblocks stacked against the wall underneath the door, propping it open. She coughs hard, one hand pressed to her ribs, not yet fully healed. She waits inside. "Okay, come on through."

Rachel crouches in and clicks her flashlight on. The light reveals four wheelers and snowmobiles like the ones they had found at the cabin, but also an assortment of yard tools, ski equipment, and orange construction cones. Ellie opens the red First Aid box on the wall and collects untouched bandages, knowing that hers will require a change soon, the wound elastic chafing her skin.

"Bingo." Rachel yanks open a rusted locker and pockets a full box of shotgun shells. She reaches back into the top shelf and passes half a box of 9mm bullets to Ellie. Ellie makes a grab for it, but Rachel doesn't let go, looking at her straight in the eye. "Hey, listen. I'm sorry I've been so defensive. Liam's the only thing I've got left in this world."

"It's… okay," Ellie replies, a familiar sinking feeling welling in her stomach. Rachel lets go of the box and Ellie distracts herself by reloading the pistol's magazine by the light of her flashlight. She clicks the bullets into place one by one.

"I'd do anything to protect him," Rachel continues, her voice softer and more worn than Ellie has heard it before. It sounds more like a mantra Rachel has told herself more than anyone else. "Anything."

"Yeah." Ellie nods in agreement. "I would, too."

"That girl of yours, Dina. She told me everything."

Ellie freezes, breath hitching in the back of her throat, as if listening harder would keep Rachel from knowing she was infected. Would Dina have told her? Ellie still had to ask her about it, praying she could avoid the conversation altogether, maybe acknowledge that Joel was right, and never speak about it ever again.

"Relax," Rachel says with a playful slap on Ellie's shoulder, turning to open a cabinet for more supplies. "She said she's known you've liked her since she came to town. Jackson, was it?"

The breath hiccups out of her mouth. That was not the answer she expected. "Yeah… Yeah, Jackson."

Her fingers tremble as she tries to finish reloading the pistol magazine. She drops a bullet and it rolls off the workbench, tinkling somewhere in the dark.

"Here, I've got it." Rachel picks it up from under the very cabinet she's scavenging. "Don't look so surprised, now."

"I'm not. I just… I don't know." Ellie clicks the bullet into place and slides the magazine in. "I mean… Everyone in Jackson likes Dina. So it's not that big a deal."

"If you say so," Rachel replies with a sideways smirk. "Way I see it, you're stuck together. You should have seen her when you were knocked out…" Rachel snickers. "She didn't leave your side."

"Really?"

"Really. She actually… Wait. Did you hear that?"

Rachel snaps her attention outside. A whistle blows in the distance, long and loud.

Then, another whistle. A different one, eerie and out of tune.

"We need to move. Grab anything else you need and let's go."

Rachel hefts her backpack on her shoulder and ducks outside. Ellie turns her flashlight off, holsters her pistol into her waistband, and follows. Rachel grabs the chain and Ellie shoves the cinderblocks propping the door open back inside. The moment the garage door crunches onto the gravel, Rachel skirts for the evergreen juniper bushes, crouching low and out of sight.

Ellie ducks and follows her away from the road. Her sneakers stick in the mud, but she creeps along, eyes locked on the empty campground. The pair of whistles sound again, louder this time, and Rachel drops to the ground, army-crawling on her belly. Ellie scrambles after her, inhaling rich, wet earth, orange needles and leaf litter sticking to her jacket. Stones bump against her bandaged ribs and she withholds a yelp, straining to Rachel's side as she stops to spy on the campground.

"What the fuck?" is all she can say when two humans in drab, grey robes crest the hill. They hold orange lanterns on poles in front of them, the shadows of their pale hoods concealing their faces, riding on a pair of black horses. Ellie can't even tell if they are male or female.

"Hush!" Rachel whispers.

Ellie doesn't dare to breathe. She wants to cough but she holds that in, too, covering her nose with her sleeve instead. Rachel presses a firm hand to her back.

"Don't move."

She wasn't planning on it. Any slight movement, whisper, or breath would be enough to give them away. Ellie keeps her knife close to her as the people, neither Infected nor Hunter, wander near. She wants to crawl backwards into the shadows, the light of their torches creeping near, following their tracks in the gravel. They whistle, rapid and punctuated, excited, even. Ellie braces herself, every muscle ready to spring in retaliation, and run if she has to.

Both strangers dismount their horses. Like Ellie and Rachel, they scavenge the campground, prodding at the withered tents. When they find nothing, they rest their torches against the vinyl coated in mold and Cordyceps, soon setting the whole campground ablaze. Thick, black smoke billows from the low, curling flames, choked by the humid fog settling in the grassy clearing.

One of them whistles above the popping and crackling embers, and then points a finger down the gravel path, directly at the maintenance shed. Ellie catches a cough in her throat as Rachel tugs at her jacket, the both of them retreating further into the overgrown bushes.

The strangers come so close that Ellie can make out the stitches in their bloodstained boots. A torch swings above them and Ellie doesn't dare to move; the slightest motion would be a dead giveaway to their position. She clenches her jaw so tight it hurts, eyes locked on the stranger, all of her willpower screaming inside for them to go away.

The stranger leans over into the bushes. The torch light catches the blonde stubble on his chin and cheeks, dirtied with earth and grime. Eyes still beneath the shadow of his hood are looking right at them, and he doesn't even know it.

A second pair of whistles blow in unison. The torchbearer shifts, now passing them and the maintenance shed, gravel scrunching underfoot. Ellie flinches as they bang on the garage door. One whistle sounds to another, an aggressive "hurry up", and the torchbearer turns away. Both of the strangers mount their horses again and continue on their way.

After ten minutes of heart-pounding silence, Rachel moves. She sticks her head up from the bushes, surveys the area, and then stands. "Okay. They're gone now. Let's hope that's the last time we run into them."

"Who are they?" Ellie asks, not sure if she's more scared or mystified.

"People," Rachel replies, as if skeptical that such strangers could even be called that. "Bad ones. We used to see them back in Montana, but only in the towns."

"Any idea what they want?"

"No. But even if I did, I don't know if it would make a difference. These people…" She hesitates, shaking her head with her fists on her hips. "They like to play with their food before eating, if you catch my drift."

"Oh," Ellie replies. It's not comforting, but Ellie wasn't sure what she was expecting. "Yeah, I've… I've seen that before."

Rachel passes her a perplexed look, but doesn't pry. "It's almost dark. We should head back to the cabin."

Rachel starts off at a swift pace yet again. Ellie lingers, staring down at the footprints left in the coarse gravel, ears straining for the strange, otherworldly whistle. All of it feels like a dream. It's too surreal, too bizarre, to actually happen.

"Ellie."

"Coming."

The abandoned campground smolders red in the gathering dark, surreal shadows dancing in the smoke and trees. Ellie stands still amongst the slow-burning fire, white ashes fluttering in the air as the tents collapse, the speckles sticking to her hair. After twenty or so years of sickness and abandonment, the place was finally cleansed.

+++

Ellie shivers in the bitter night, her fingers red and numb, wishing for a pair of gloves. Darkness swallows their steep, difficult climb back. If not for firelight peeking between the cracks of the cabin walls, she might have hiked right past it. She stops to catch her breath, thick and foggy, as Rachel muscles the bookcase blockade aside.

"It's us," she calls to Dina and Liam inside. Orange light spills across a frosted lawn and Ellie trudges in after Rachel, shimmying past the bookcase.

Dina pokes her head up from an armchair with its stuffing falling out. She closes a book, tiptoes over a mess of matchbox cars, and throws her arms around Ellie's neck.

"You're back," she says with a sigh of relief. "I was so worried. Are you okay?"

Ellie holds onto her and welcomes the warmth that comes with her embrace. "Yeah. I'm… I'm good. Cold. Tired."

"Let me make you some tea."

Soon enough, Ellie's fingers are tingling, holding a warm, ceramic mug. Dina chucks another bundle of scrap wood into the fire, crackling with heat and light, and sits alongside her. Rachel rests her shotgun in her lap and wipes it clean on the sofa. Liam lays fast asleep on a woven Shoshone rug, a patchwork quilt draped over his hunched shoulders, baseball cap askew.

"What took you so long?" Dina asks.

Ellie sips the tea. It's the same kind she had when she was sick, but now she notices a distinctly muddy flavor. It's the same dorky mug, too. But the tea is hot and filling enough, and so she chokes it down. "We ran into some hunters."

"Shit. Are we…"

"We're okay."

Dina sighs in relief, and Ellie keeps her eyes on the fireplace. It burns like the torch in the strange whistler's hand. Rachel knows it, too, cleaning her gun in pensive silence. Both of them knew it was better to downplay what they had seen to avoid spreading panic.

"Oh. I found something for you while you were gone."

Ellie can't tell if it's the fire or her modesty that warms her cheeks. "What?"

"Close your eyes," Dina says with a promising grin. "And no peeking."

"Uh… All right."

"I mean it."

"Okay, they're closed!"

Dina reaches under the couch. She hauls out a hard, oblong case that scrapes against the floor. She pushes the yellow latches and it springs open.

Ellie opens her eyes anyways and gasps. "Dina, is that what I think it is?"

"You bet."

Ellie kneels alongside her and cradles the sleek, grey recurve bow from its foam interior. She plucks the taut nylon string and it twangs, brand new.

"Oh! It comes with these, too." Dina reaches under the couch again and passes her a plastic package. Ellie rips it open and slides out seven fiberglass arrows with hunter-orange fletching. She rolls them between her fingers. They're much more durable than the wooden arrows she was accustomed to shooting.

"I can't believe I didn't find it earlier. Liam was actually the one that found it. It was buried in one of the closets."

"Dina, this is…" Ellie is almost speechless, unable to contain her smile. "This is awesome." Of all the things that had gone bad, having a bow in her hands made all the difference. Just holding it made her feel invincible.

"You like it?"

"Fuck yeah," Ellie replies, beaming, when she's suddenly struck by how bad she wants to kiss Dina. Fettering nerves crash over her confidence as they lock eyes, Dina's brown eyes bold and bright, her hand resting casually on Ellie's knee. Ellie chides herself for not noticing it earlier, heat tingling up her spine, a carnal desire to have her so strong that she needs to set the bow aside and take control of what feels so very out of control.

Rachel clears her throat. "Still here, ladies."

Both girls spring back from each other as if struck. Rachel snickers, sets her shotgun aside, and shakes her head with a fond smile.

"My husband used to look at me the same way. Bastard."

Dina tucks her hair behind an ear and picks up her tea mug again. "What happened to him?"

"He joined the Fireflies three days after he found out I was pregnant."

"Oh… Rachel, you know the Fireflies were…"

"Wiped out? Yeah, I know," she replies with an indifferent shrug. "I assumed he was dead until we got word he and some others were headed to Seattle. Kept saying something about 'salvation'. And he needed his son there… His son he hasn't even met."

"He's a sweet kid, you know," Dina says, gesturing her tea at Liam, still sound asleep. "Smart, too. He kept beating me at that game over there."

She directs her cup towards an old game of Connect Four, unburied from one of the cabin's many wooden chests.

Rachel smiles. "Thank you for playing with him. I try to, but…" She glances at her shotgun, smile fading and shaking her head. "This world is no place for children, anymore."

"Is that why you're taking him to Seattle?" Dina asks. "A group I was with… They were headed there too."

Rachel's brow furrows. "Why were they heading there?"

"The same reason you gave," Dina replies with a shrug. "It was safe."

"Yeah, we'll see how long that lasts," Rachel scoffs. "But I guess the thought keeps us moving. And then maybe we'll rest for a while, before we have to do it all over again. Liam will grow up, but until he does…it's up to me to protect him. Not some town guard or police or bullshit like that. You can't rely on men. So, it's just me. But one of these days, I won't be here for him. And it'll cost me."

Ellie grimaces. Even if having children wasn't anywhere in her near future, she couldn't begin to fathom what kind of pain it would bring. Getting to know Joel was proof enough.

"Hey," she speaks up, hopeful. "Look, I know you just met us, but… Seattle's far. Very far. And winter's coming. What if you and Liam came to Jackson with us instead? There are other kids his age there, and you can get all the supplies you need."

Rachel hunches forward. She opens her mouth, decides against it, and scoops Liam into her arms, blankets and all.

"I'm sorry," she finally says. "I made a promise. I don't expect either of you to understand. But for now, it'd be wise to get some rest. Goodnight."

She whispers something only mothers do into Liam's ear as she carries him into the bedroom, boots thumping on the wooden floorboards. Ellie and Dina wait for her to close the door.

"Don't you think that's kind of strange?" Dina asks softly, as if Rachel could still hear them. "I mean, it's hard enough getting anywhere by yourself. I can't imagine it with a kid."

Ellie shrugs. It was tough, but not impossible. Her own journey with Joel was testament to that. "She's just trying to protect him."

Dina nods, not nearly as convinced, but ultimately decides to drop it. "Hey, before I forget, there's something else we found while you were out."

"Another surprise?"

"Sorta." Dina offers her a hand. "Come on, stand up."

Ellie takes it, wondering what secret treasure Dina and Liam could have possibly found, watching as Dina disappears into the kitchen. When she returns, she sets a square box onto the coffee table, clearing Liam's matchbox cars with her foot. Perplexed, Ellie watches over her shoulder as she pulls a black disc from a cardboard sleeve and blows the dust off of it. A tinny scratching sound chirps up from the ancient record player.

Dina holds out a hand as slow, dramatic drums churn out from the lonely speakers. "Ready?"

Ellies listens to a languid, bluesy guitar join the drums. Her brow furrows. "For what?"

"Dance with me," Dina replies with an encouraging smile. "Please?"

Ellie's heart skips a beat. She wrings her hands together. "I don't know."

She thinks of the last time she danced; years ago, on top of a jewelry display in the Boston Mall, and with Riley only a few minutes before they were attacked. But…this was different. The music was soft and unlikely to draw attention or even wake Rachel and Liam.

Dina slips her hands into Ellie's sweaty palms. "It's easy. Just follow me."

She steps, gently tugging Ellie with her, moving with the music. Ellie stumbles, praying she doesn't step on Dina's toes with her big dumb feet, and even when she does, Dina sways with it in silent grace. Ellie watches as she closes her eyes, losing herself in the soulful ballad, her head following the drums. Only then, does Ellie forget about her feet, swept away in the rhythm.

" _When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her…_ "

It's a beautifully sad song, one that Ellie doesn't fully understand, but when the guitar fades to a whisper and the drums evaporate, she's still standing with her hands in Dina's.

More than all of the times before, Ellie longs to kiss her. And from the looks of it, she thinks Dina might want to, too.

But Ellie can't, so she pulls away.

"What's wrong?" Dina asks as Ellie sits down on the couch.

"Dina… There's something I need to tell you."

Ellie closes her eyes and braces herself, as if she's about to get hit, but only because she knows that's how much it's going to hurt.

Dina switches off the record player and sits down next to her. "Ellie, you can tell me anything."

"You're not going to like it," Ellie warns.

"Try me."

Ellie hesitates, but she had no doubt, now, that it was something that needed to be done. By the orange glow of the fireplace, Ellie pulls her sleeve back and unwraps the bandages of her forearm. Dina watches with a tilted head as Ellie reveals scarred, mutilated flesh. Pale skin bunches in angry red creases where human teeth sank in down to bone. Sickly yellow patches stain irregular patterns all around it.

"I meant to tell you," Ellie says quickly, panic creeping up in her throat. "Really. I swear. It's just… It's harder than it seems. If anyone found out about this back in Jackson… It wouldn't be good, y'know? They could exile or lynch me or… Please, Dina, don't be mad at me."

Dina examines the scar in quiet fascination. If she's angry, she bites her tongue. It makes Ellie nervous.

Then, Dina gingerly curls her fingers around Ellie's wrist, steadying it. "I'm not mad at you, Ellie."

Ellie blinks. "You're not?"

"No," Dina replies, rotating her arm, learning the curve of where the scar begins and ends. "This is… This is incredible. Honestly, I saw this when I was wrapping your ribs, but I thought maybe… Maybe you might turn, and… Ellie, how long ago were you bitten?"

"Uh, about three years now? It happened back in Boston. On the same day Riley was bit. But she turned, and I…"

 _I didn't_ , she wanted to say. It was a memory that would always haunt her. Her forlorn gaze into the fireplace behind her doesn't go unnoticed as Dina shifts her hand down into hers.

"Hey," she says, grabbing Ellie's attention back. "Forget about the scar."

"What?"

"And forget about being Infected. I don't care. You could turn tonight or twenty years from now. It doesn't matter. Because right now, you're you. You're Ellie. And nobody can take that away from you."

Dina looks down at her palm and traces the calluses with her index finger.

"My grandmother used to live with us in the LA QZ," Dina continues. "She could do all kinds of magic tricks. My little brother, Daniel, spent a lot of time with her. He was too young to help out at the hospital with me and mom. One day, he steals some ration cards from one of the soldiers and brought them to her. He didn't even pull them out of his pocket when she told him to take them back to the soldier. We have no idea how she knew he had them.

"So, I asked her one day. She said that people were a lot like books. You can never judge one by its cover, but you can tell where it's been; left behind in the pouring rain, baking out in the sun, or sitting pristine on a shelf. And then, if you took a look at a person's hands, it was like reading that book. You could tell where things happened, and if you look at things just the right way, you could tell where they were going to go, too."

She takes Ellie's hand in both of hers and gives it a firm squeeze. "So… If this is who the real Ellie is… I want to know all about her."

It takes a moment for everything Dina just said to sink in. Ellie sighs, shoulders heavy, carrying the weight of what was left in the world. She slowly shakes her head with a defeated shrug. "I don't even know who that is anymore."

"You can start from the beginning," Dina suggests. "You mentioned someone named Riley?"

Riley. The name simultaneously pulls a smile on Ellie's face and tugs at her heartstrings. Hilarious, wild, brilliant Riley. God, how she missed her.

"Yeah. She was my best friend."

Dina piles the blankets on them, cozying up next to Ellie so they both sink into the floral-patterned cushions. She pours both of them another round of pine-needle tea.

"What was she like?" Dina asks.

Nostalgia warms Ellie's chest like golden rays of sunshine. Despite all the terrible things that had happened, she would never forget the day Riley stood up for her, calling off the playground bullies before they could throw another punch. Talking about Riley releases a valve she didn't know was stuck. Dina leans forward, picturing herself alongside Ellie's former adventures of sneaking out of military school, stealing water guns, and bringing an abandoned mall back to life after Ellie falls quiet.

Ellie inhales, the grief surfacing and clouding over the memories, pushing them further and further into the distance. "And then… That was it. She was bitten and so was I, and she said we have two options… One, we take care of it ourselves, or two… We can wait it out. Be all poetic and lose our minds together… I can't believe I was that stupid."

"Oh, Ellie..."

Dina had set her tea aside long ago and wraps a comforting arm around her shoulders, trembling slightly. She brushes aside a stand of auburn hair sticking to Ellie's tearstained cheek.

"You're not stupid," she continues. "You are amazing and I am so incredibly jealous of the beautiful friendship you had with Riley. You had something special, and…"

Dina pauses, her own words seeming to catch her by surprise. A slight blush dapples her cheeks and she follows up with a quick,

"And I'd like to think we have something special, too."

It's a suggestion that sends Ellie's heart racing, her hand now sweaty in Dina's grasp. A hundred thoughts replay in her mind of sneaking glances at Dina from the Jackson stables, of wondering how she could talk to her at the bonfire, and the countless times, she was beginning to realize, she would throw herself in harm's way so Dina could live another day. She could break all of her bones and Dina would be there to bandage her back together.

Ellie swallows with a shy nod. "Yeah… I think we do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! Thank you so much for your kudos, comments, and dedication! We're about halfway through Ellie and Dina's journey, so a special thank you for sticking around to find out what happens. My awesome beta, crusader_blue, and I have been hard at work to get these chapters nailed down to perfection. We've both gotten a little busy lately, so things might be a little slower to post.
> 
> In the meantime, the song featured in this chapter is "Work Song" by Hozier. He's totally become my unofficial soundtrack for this ship. Take a listen and fall in love: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nH7bjV0Q_44
> 
> Thank you so much for all of your feedback. It means a lot to me and I really do appreciate every word.


	6. Chapter 6

For the first time in many nights, Ellie sleeps well, and without dreams. Blue morning light seeps through the plywood cracks of the window as she awakens, rousing her from Dina's warm embrace on the couch.

"Hmm?" Dina mumbles. Her arms tighten around Ellie's waist as she pulls away. "Hmph."

"It's okay," Ellie whispers, laying the quilted blanket back over her. "I'll be right back."

Ellie pads softly over the worn floorboards, wool socks dampening the sound. She bends down to tie her sneakers on, her ribs no longer swelling, feeling strong again. Retrieving the recurve bow from its case and the slim quiver of fiberglass arrows, she squeezes through the bookcase blockade into the crisp, autumn air of a new day.

She doesn't plan to go far, knowing it would be wise to keep the cabin in sight. Pale sunlight streaks between Douglas fir and blue spruce. Zig-zags of indigo shadow chase the frosty ground, shimmering like glass shards. Clouds of yesterday linger in a lavender sky. They crawl south, sweeping cold wind with them, ushering in alpine winter. Soon, Ellie knew, the mountains would freeze, with blankets of heavy snow to follow.

Traveling through the mountains in winter was near impossible. Even though she and Joel had managed it once before, she wasn't anywhere near ready to do it again. Last time, at least, they had a horse.

"Thanks for everything, Callus," she says, paying homage to the noble mustang, her most faithful companion throughout that dreadful winter. The winter they passed through the Rockies, the winter she almost lost Joel, the winter that still assaulted her in the form of nightmares, punishing like the snowy, subzero winds…

Snapping twigs pull her from the depths of the dark memory. She freezes, holding her breath and listening hard. A rabbit escapes out of the corner of her eye and she knocks an arrow into her bow, tiptoeing to where it had once been.

The rabbit makes a trail, grey fur wicking the frost off the blades of grass, hiding behind a tree and then a boulder. Ellie keeps her distance, sneaking downwind. For a moment, she loses sight of her quarry, the fur blending into the dense, dead foliage.

She draws the arrow, awakening stiff back and shoulder muscles, taking aim. A blur of movement enters her vision and she releases, spearing the rabbit through the neck. The broadhead sinks into the earth in a pool of blood.

Ellie exhales. The forest is quiet, oblivious to the death of some small, irrelevant creature. The trees were as silent as they had been in the near-extinction of the human race; nature had no qualms about killing, and neither should she. She tears the broadhead clean from the rabbit's flesh with a soft rip.

She lays the limp rabbit flat on its side and finds a softball-sized boulder to dig a shallow hole in. She flicks out her knife, poking at the rabbit's thin, grey hide, and tearing it open to reveal the pink, sticky muscle inside. It was a process that took her far too long to figure out, but after her first winter with Joel, she had mastered the art of field dressing. Rabbits and squirrels had been their only source of nutrition through the cold, snowy winter months, and it looked like it might be that way for her and Dina.

Ellie frowns at the thought. How much further would they need to go? With the addition of Rachel and Liam to their party, they would need twice as many resources, and possibly double the travel time. She had no doubt it would be snowing soon.

A sharp prickling slowly raises on the back of her neck, subtle like the shifting breeze. It's enough to make Ellie pause, one hand full of fur and blood, and the other reaching for her bow laying next to her in the snow. Ever so slowly, she turns, holding in a cold breath and ready for a fight.

She's not alone.

A wolf. Black as sin with burning, orange eyes, stares at her from the pine trees.

Ellie closes her eyes, swallowing. It could be a hallucination. But she opens them, and the wolf is still there. She thinks it might have even taken a step closer. Slowly, she rises, knife still in hand, her pistol left back at the cabin. She could take down Clickers. Could she take down a wolf? She was pretty sure they hunted together in packs like Stalkers. Were more wolves lurking around her, hidden within the forest?

But then, its attention flickers and its nose twitches as it looks towards the rabbit. It strikes Ellie how skinny the wolf is, its head too big for its frame, the outline of its ribs almost visible in the rising sunlight.

Ever so slowly, Ellie picks up the half-cleaned rabbit, rising cautiously to her feet. She's not sure if it's watching her or the rabbit more, creeping forward, mouth parting with excitement. Famished saliva drips from black jowls and yellow teeth. The charcoal ruff of its neck swells, orange eyes watching her with the intensity of a wildfire.

"You want this?" she says, the wolf's ears flicking at the sound of her voice. "You can have it, but don't follow us."

She was losing it. Wolves were wild beasts that made no bargains with humans, and yet here she was. The wolf takes a small step towards her and she throws the wolf's feet, retreating just in case it jumps out at her instead, heart racing and knife brandished before her.

The wolf picks up the whole rabbit in its jaws, blinks its orange eyes once at her, and vanishes into the dark forest whence it came.

Ellie waits, unsure if it would come back, and then hightails it back to the safety of the cabin. She wipes her bloodied hands on her jeans and stows her knife away, squeezing through the bookcase blockade back inside.

Dina looks up from the kitchen. "You're back! And… you're covered in blood again."

"Sorry," Ellie replies, doing her best to wipe the blood now off of her jeans. "I was hunting."

"Catch anything?" Rachel asks, also in the kitchen.

"Uh, sorta. But not really." Somehow, omitting her encounter with the wolf felt less dangerous than lying and saying she ran into Infected or more Hunters. Thankfully, Dina and Rachel drop the subject, turning instead to the faded map laid out on the table. Ellie joins them as Liam sits in a chair and pokes at a sad pile of raisins for breakfast. "So… What's this?"

"This," Rachel says, pointing her index finger at the map, "is how we're getting the hell outta here."

Her finger jabs at a red triangle. Alongside it reads  _Elkhorn Campground_. "If we follow the service road, it'll take us out of the woods and onto the highway. After that, the road will split. I'm thinking this one will bypass your compound."

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Dina asks, casting a concerned glance at Liam.

Rachel sighs, folding up the map and promptly zippering it away into one of her backpack's pockets.

"I appreciate the offer, ladies, but I'm on a tight schedule. Where that road splits is where I'll be seeing the last of you."

"Oh… All right." Dina rubs Liam's hair with a disappointed frown. She heads into the living room and Ellie follows her. She sits down on the couch, tying on her shoes next to the fireplace. Without looking up, she slowly shakes her head. "I wish they would come with."

"They'll be okay," Ellie reassures her, despite her own misgivings. If anything were to happen to Rachel, Liam would surely be dead. When she looks over her shoulder at them, Liam struggles to tie his own shoes. Rachel kneels down in front of him and does it for him with a small smile.

In less than twenty minutes, the four of them are back out on the service road, winding further and further downhill. Ellie pauses, watching a pale, grey plume of smoke rise between the trees where the campground used to be.

"Hey," Dina says, doubling-back uphill for her, noticing her lingering. "Everything okay?"

Ellie quickly turns away and keeps moving, as not to draw any more attention to the charred campground. She didn't need Dina worried. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Up ahead, Liam chases the little chipmunks that cross their path. Ellie is surprised when he almost catches one, sneaking up on it from behind as it munches on a pine seed, but then it skitters away into the leaf litter.

"You know what I could go for?" Dina asks.

"What?" Ellie replies.

"Pancakes." Dina closes her eyes and inhales, as if she could take in the warm, sweet aroma of a hot breakfast in the mess hall. "Can you imagine it? A big fluffy stack o' flapjacks, slathered with butter and dripping in maple syrup."

Ellie's mouth waters. "Well, Dina, pancakes are great and all, but they ain't got nothing on waffles."

"Waffles?" Dina balks, nose wrinkling. "Ellie, everyone knows pancakes are the superior breakfast of choice."

"Nope. Totally team waffles on this one."

"But everyone knows a waffle is just a square pancake!"

"Or maybe pancakes are round waffles."

"Hey, Rachel!" Dina calls up ahead. "Pancakes or waffles?"

Rachel pauses, shrugs, and replies, "Neither. French toast."

"Aww man," Ellie complains, smacking her forehead. "I totally forgot about that one."

"Me too," Dina says. "I guess that settles it, then."

She smirks and Ellie clears her throat. They push forward into the morning, the golden sun rising and the shadows fading with it. The songbirds finish their melodies and are replaced by the familiar rush of wind, rustling through the trees. A gale powers through the canopy and a shower of autumn leaves pinwheel down like falling rain. Ellie smiles, watching as Dina and Liam dance in them.

"You should have been on Broadway," Ellie remarks, unable to take her eyes off of Dina as she twirls in a spot of sunlight. "You're really good."

Dina flashes her a grin, spinning again. "You know… I'd probably be better with a partner."

Ellie grimaces, thinking of how graceful Dina was to the slow song last night, and how she was… not. "I think I'll need a little more practice."

"Then it's a good thing you've got a teacher, huh?" Dina raises a smart brow at her. "Don't worry. I can teach you all the styles I know."

"There are different styles?"

"Oh, totally! There's ballet, ballroom, tango…" Dina lists off a bunch of different dancing styles Ellie would never remember, her knowledge of human culture deeper than anyone else her age; it was as if she had been born before the Outbreak.

Somewhere between highlighting the differences between traditional, contemporary, and modern dance, Ellie asks, "How do you know all of this stuff?"

"The world before we were born was beautiful, Ellie," Dina replies with a wistful look to the sky, not unlike the one she'd made when dreaming of pancakes. "One day, everyone that was alive back then will be dead. Why should the world they knew die with them? Nobody's writing books, making up songs, or dancing anymore. We're all just trying to survive, but… I want to be known for more than that. It's my responsibility to carry down the knowledge of our grandparents and pass it on to our kids, so they can do the same when we're old."

"Wow," Ellie says softly. "I never really thought about it that way. That's kinda cool."

"So, you don't think I'm like… a total nerd?"

"You're a fan of Savage Starlight. Of course you're a nerd."

"Hey, I only saw the movie," Dina teases right back. She pokes Ellie in the arm. "You're the one that's read all the comic books."

"Because Dr. Daniela Star is awesome!"

"Oh, Ellie." Dina laughs and then sighs. "You are so lame."

She squeezes Ellie's hand, even though Ellie doesn't remember when she'd first grabbed it. She doesn't let go as the path narrows, reclaimed by the forest, awash with dead leaves and pine needles. Ellie spots a pair of deer tracks in the mud, taking a moment to stoop over them.

"Do you think it's the same herd?" Dina asks, peering into the woods for any sign of them, but if they are there, they are well-hidden.

"Maybe," Ellie replies, but when she looks into the woods, she searches for something else: a moving shadow between the trees, a flash of orange eyes, or the chuff of white breath from the wolf that had found her that morning. Her neck still prickles at the way the wolf had looked at her, starving and wary. Giving it the rabbit would have been enough, wouldn't it? What was the likelihood of a wolf following them? Would it go back to its pack? The forest was enormous, shrouded in mixed timberland, the trees nearly indistinguishable from one another in the far distance. The wolf could have been hiding anywhere and looking straight at her, and she easily could have missed it.

Wolf or no wolf, they had to keep moving. Down every hill and around every bend, though, it almost felt as if they were making no progress at all, their path still narrow and crowded with tall trees. It made cities like Boston and Pittsburgh look like pinpricks on the Earth's surface, passing through their concrete streets in a matter of hours, whereas the heart of the Grand Tetons would take days. Yet, she was thankful for the winding path beneath her feet, drawn and carved by someone long ago. People had been here. They could lead her back to humanity. The parts of her she hated, the savage instincts and drive it took to endure and survive, could be tucked away again.

Mostly, Ellie figured, she could pretend to be the average girl fumbling to navigate adulthood. Not someone… else.

Up ahead, Rachel stops. What used to be a wooden bridge was now mostly washed away to a deep, slow-moving stream almost twenty feet across. She tests one of the structural two-by-fours cemented at the base of the bridge, soft with grey and green mold but still holding strong.

"We can still shimmy across," she declares as Ellie and Dina catch up, Liam between them. "Then, we'll break for lunch."

Rachel picks Liam up and lifts him on her shoulders, as if it was something she had done hundreds of times before. Both Ellie and Dina hesitate, looking at the stream below.

"Why is it always bridges?" Dina groans, shuffling in front, and still not letting go of Ellie's hand. She lets out an exasperated sigh over the chuckling and gulping of the stream. "I can't wait until we're back."

"If it makes you feel any better…" Ellie says slowly, shimmying along behind, eyes fixed on her toes and the dark water below, murky and unable to see the bottom. She watches sticks and dead leaves swirl down into the eddies like tiny whirlpools. If the stream was any bigger, like a river, she knew she wouldn't have been able to get out of it. "I can't swim."

"Wait. Seriously? First, you clearly can't dance, but you can't swim? I thought they woulda taught you in military school."

"It mighta been for the older kids." Ellie shrugs. "Besides, the place was more of a slave orphanage than a school. I think I still have blisters from scrubbing bathroom floors."

"Gross!"

"Yeah, I got into a trouble a lot. I mean, most of it was because of Riley, but still."

"You, trouble? Never," Dina mocks. She turns back to look at Ellie for a moment before continuing forward. "But hey, I'd probably get into trouble too if I was being cooped up at some strict military school. Even growing up in the Zone, my parents were always pissed when our basketball would go over the fence into the next quarantined district. But we had to go get it because it was our only one, you know?"

"Totally. Riley and I got so much stuff confiscated. Baseballs, marbles, even this really cool light-up yoyo one time…" Ellie trails off as they reach the other side of the bridge unscathed, and surprisingly calm.

"I wish I had met you when I was younger," Dina says, reaching into the ranger's messenger bag on Ellie's shoulder. She plucks a piece of stale, dried fruit taken from the campground the day before. "Riley, too."

"Yeah," Ellie replies with a nod, the sentiment sweeter than the dried apricot from the bag. "Me too."

The rest of their break is spent listening to the afternoon sounds of the forest; squirrels chittering, birds flapping between the trees, and the omnipresent stirring of cool wind. While munching on a pruned cherry, Ellie notices Dina's gaze fall to Liam again, sitting on the ground and eating more raisins. He was thin for a kid, cheeks and fingers dirty from playing in the leaves, baseball cap askew. He rests against Rachel's leg as she chews on a piece of gum, not eating, constantly vigilant. But even as she scans the woods around them, Rachel pauses, licks her finger, and smudges away the dirt on his cheeks.

"Eww, mom!" Liam fusses, throwing his arms up.

"You're dirty," Rachel remarks, licking her finger again.

"So?"

"So it's either this, or you can take a bath in the river."

Liam vehemently shakes his head. "No, the river's cold!"

"Then let me wipe your face, okay?"

Liam pouts, but allows her to wipe away the rest of the dirt from his nose and cheeks. Somehow, Ellie finds his frustration endearing.

"Hey, Liam," she calls. "Wanna see something cool?"

His wide blue eyes look up in wonder as she digs into the bag of dried fruit. Rachel stiffens, lips pursing, as if prepared to tell her to cut it out. Dina nibbles on a banana chip, watching her out of the corner of her eye.

Ellie rests another cherry on her thumb like a quarter, flicks it into the air, leans back, and catches it in her mouth.

"Whoa!" Liam exclaims. "Do it again, do it again!"

Rachel is not amused, brow heavy. "Maybe you should wait until we're somewhere safe before you try anymore carnival tricks."

It's not a suggestion. Ellie withdraws, putting the dried papaya back in the bag.

"Sorry," she mutters. Nothing she did, said, or could do ever felt like enough for Rachel, and it showed.

Dina leans over and whispers, "For what it's worth… I thought it was pretty cool."

"Thanks."

Twenty minutes later, they were back on the trail, winding down from the mountain. At long last, the thick spruce trees relinquish their grasp, the mountains parting for the iconic valley of Jackson Hole. They all stop, hands resting on the rusty guardrail, momentarily awestruck by the sweeping view of one million identical golden aspen trees. The city of Jackson proper, with its shingled roofs and dated country ranches, waits for them down below.

"Ellie, we're...we're so close," Dina says, trembling with excitement. "We're almost home."

Home. The word pulls at a place in Ellie's chest. She smiles, but standing there, with their backs to the wild, a different kind of doubt bubbles to the surface. She didn't want this to end. They had been thrown together in sheer happenstance, but the moment Dina had pulled her up off the ground, it felt more like fate. They would be bound to each other in a way that no one else in Jackson would ever understand.

Ellie knew it was selfish, but Jackson was its own little world. Whatever happened to either of them when they returned wasn't up to her.

"That's your town?" Rachel scoffs, unimpressed.

"No," Ellie replies. "The settlement's over the river, up there, by the dam." She points across the valley, where a thin, grey line cuts between the yellow trees, running parallel with the silvery shine of running water. "We'll have to cut through the town."

Rachel frowns, clearly displeased. She glares at the town below them, no doubt inhabited by a less favorable crowd, and difficult to get by. She shifts her weight from foot to foot, lips pursed, and growls, "Fuck it. We'll see if we can pass through quietly."

She holds her hand out to Liam. "Let's go, kiddo."

Dina walks next to Ellie. "Think we'll see Maria?"

"If we're lucky," Ellie replies, throat knotting with worry. Both of them knew that every once in a while, Maria or Tommy would lead a group of men and women down into Jackson proper for supplies, but it was not without its bandits, looters, hunters, and anyone else that could feel like killing them. Infected were rumored to show up, too. A part of Ellie wishes she had told Dina about the strange, whistling people she had seen yesterday, silently praying that they weren't going to be in the town. Somehow, even armed with a bow and a shotgun, gut instinct told her that it wouldn't be enough to take them down.

She tries not to think of how many more of them could be out there as the service road ends in a bare wheat field, long harvested of any fruiting crops. Over several flat acres, a dilapidated barn rests on the corner of the lot. Crows perch on a rusted tractor and at least three old classic cars of a bygone era sit on the overgrown lawn.

They pass under a large cottonwood tree, two frayed ropes dangling down from a low, thick branch, as if they once supported a child's swing. Ellie casts a cursory glance at the farmhouse ranch, the white aluminum siding chipped and peeling from decades of unpredictable mountain weather. She's not sure if she's relieved or suspicious that the windows are dark and the house seemingly empty.

"See anyone?" Rachel asks, shotgun now off her shoulder and ready.

"No," Ellie replies, scanning the windows of another abandoned house. Threadbare curtains hang still and dusty. She keeps her eyes peeled for the glint of a sniper scope, legs tense and ready to duck. Like the Pittsburgh suburbs, long driveways branch out in either direction to vacant houses, mailboxes bashed and crooked. It would be the perfect place for a sniper to lay low.

Or for Clickers to hide, she thinks, debating if it would be wiser to reach for her knife or her pistol.

The gravel road evens out to cracked, worn pavement and sun-bleached storefronts flank either side of them. Like the houses, they are dark and dusty, the letters faded from their signs and paper flyers fluttering in the soft breeze. The temperature begins to drop with the setting sun, hidden behind the clouds, draining what was once a lovely town of all color. They pass an old diner with wooden boards shielding the windows, criss-crossed over shattered glass.

The road curves like an inward spiral to the center of the town. Over a yellowing lawn with a rusting black fountain sits a small church. Dim firelight glows through stained glass windows, and a plume of smoke rises out of a hole in the roof.

"I don't like this," Rachel mutters as they press into a brick wall. She looks down at Liam and then to Dina. "You two stay here. Ellie and I will check it out."

Before following, Ellie passes her pistol to Dina. "Just in case anything happens."

"Got it." Dina nods, exhaling, the gun heavy in her palm. "Stay by me, Liam."

Ellie moves around them in the alley and crouches with Rachel behind a park bench. "Hold up."

"What is it?"

"I knew a guy back in the city that also lived in a church. He boobytrapped the hell out of it."

If there's a tripwire, neither of them can see it. Ellie knocks an arrow into her bow, rising slowly and pulling it back, breath shaking. Stay calm. Stay calm.

She waits for only a moment more and lets the arrow fly. It sails in a low arc no higher than her head and down into the yellow lawn with a muffled thud.

"Okay. I think we're good."

"Good. So if I blow up, I can blame you."

Ellie looks around at the deserted surroundings. "If there was anyone here, that would have triggered them."

"Right. Let's get a move on before they change their minds."

Ellie and Rachel keep their heads low as they sprint across the lawn and up the church's cracking cement steps. They take cover behind a decorative banister, locking eyes with Dina and Liam in the same alleyway they had left them in, watching with bated breath.

Rachel cocks her shotgun and hefts the copper knocker with one hand. The weathered oak door creaks open, having never been locked. Before it even swings all the way open, Ellie coughs as the first wave of acrid smoke hits her nose. Her insides clench and she grits her teeth, cringing with one hand on her ribs, and pulls her shirt over her face. Rachel wheezes and does the same, tying a bandanna around her mouth and nose, squinting into the hazy smoke.

They squeeze inside, but don't get far. Pale light streams down the center of the church like an aisle. Dark blood smears the floorboards.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Rachel swears in disbelief, voice ragged. "Fucking animals."

Three bodies are piled on top of each other in the center of the room, faces slack or blown to pieces. The fetid, metallic odor stings in the back of Ellie's throat as she fights down a bubble of pure disgust.

Rachel stops ahead of her. "Ellie… Look."

A man, stripped naked, is crucifixed to the cross on the church altar. Sliced at the torso and disemboweled, syrupy blood drips onto black, smoldering embers, his feet bound by ragged coils of rope to the cross. Talll, sinister flames char the wet and smoky wood, plumes of hot smoke billowing out through a small hole in the roof, charring and melting the moldy shingles, but not quite catching.

Of all the human atrocities she had seen, none of them were quite like this.

"Fuck…" is all Ellie can say, withholding a gag as she approaches the bloody altar of scorched flesh and burning hair, squinting in the smoke and heat. "Any guess who did this?"

Rachel wrinkles her nose and curls her lip. "Not Hunters. And definitely not Infected."

"What about those people in the campground?"

"Maybe. They burned that, so…" Rachel muses. "But why… Why like this?"

Ellie can't even make out the man's face, beaten into bloody, grotesque pulp. A Clicker could have ripped it off and she would not have known the difference. She winces when she sees his arms also strapped to the cross. Broken bones raise but do not break his purplish, bruised skin.

She had seen bodies butchered, corpses burned, and soldiers lynched, but never without reason. When people would starve, they caved to their basic needs and killed each other for meat. When people died, Cordyceps would spread its spores unless a match was lit. And the military had a way of pissing everybody off, including Ellie herself at times. Never had she come across a man that had been killed with such horror and malice.

Ellie's head spins. Her hand trembles and every breath she takes comes out short and ragged. She can't look at the gruesome display any longer, turning back for the door. "I feel sick."

Rachel says something, but Ellie doesn't hear it. She steps outside, snow flurries swirling around her, but all she smells is the burning corpse, singeing the hairs in her nose. Her knees want to buckle under her as she descends the cement staircase and trudges, stiff-legged, back to Dina and Liam, unsure if she's going to vomit or pass out.

Dina notices her condition immediately. "Ellie. Ellie, what's wrong? What happened in there?"

Ellie tries to speak, but she can't.

"You're shaking," Dina says, catching her by the shoulders before she trips, steadying her firm. "Calm down. Deep breaths. It's going to be alright."

Ellie swallows, inhaling, trying to choke down her rapidly beating heart. She closes her eyes and all she can see is the man splayed out on the altar.

"Look at me," Dina commands. "Listen to me, Ellie. Just look at me."

Dina moves her hands to Ellie's temples, pressing enough to feel her veins pulsing wildly underneath her freckled skin, sweaty and grimy with ash. Ellie gasps, panicking and blinking away the tears from her eyes, still stinging from the smoke. Out of the corner of her eye, Liam huddles against the brick wall with his eyes squeezed shut.

"Ellie," Dina says again, pulling Ellie's gaze back on her. She inhales and then exhales, long and slow. She repeats it once, twice, and Ellie finds herself mimicking her, breathing together.

Finally, her heartbeat slows and speech returns to Ellie's stuttering lips. "Dina?"

"Yeah?"

"We're getting back to Jackson." Ellie straightens, regaining control, and never breaking eye contact. "Tonight."


	7. Chapter 7

Jackson Hole is a ghost town. Falling snow whispers between the boarded-up shops and parked cars, settling on collapsed roofs and cracked pavement. Even the supermarket, a large and imposing building of steel and glass, is dark. Every place where humans used to thrive, from ski shops to fast food restaurants, now stand hollow and devoid of life.

Fear, not cold, prickles on Ellie's neck as they slowly dart their way through the town. The silence seeps around them, every footstep feeling like it could raise an alarm, despite most of their path in the snow being whisked away by the wind. Rachel walks ahead of her, a wool scarf wrapped around her jaw as she hoists her shotgun at the ready, checking for enemies on every block. Liam clings to her leg. Ellie brings up the rear, throwing a protective arm around Dina as they peek around a corner, both of their breaths exhaling in a dense fog with the oncoming cold. Ellie taps numb fingers against the cinderblock wall, shivering.

With the change in weather, getting back to Jackson was more important than ever. If Infected or Hunters didn't kill them, the cruel forces of winter wouldn’t take much longer.

“How much further?” Rachel asks, casting a wary glance at the sinking sun, just barely visible against the clouds crowding the horizon. It felt like they had been walking through bright woods and sunshine only a few hours ago. Now, everything around them is slowly cloaking in white as the snow settles.

“Not much,” Ellie replies. “This road will take us out to the highway, and then… Oh. Damn."

She pauses, breath catching in her throat, watching as three bodies dangle from a busted traffic light in the distance. They sway in the wind, corpses old and grey, but still sending a hot tingle down her spine.

“Don’t look, Liam,” Rachel says, pulling her son closer to her. He claps his hands to his eyes as she squints at the bodies. “Friends of yours?”

“Nobody I know,” Dina remarks.

Ellie shakes her head. Even if she did know them, they were unrecognizable, faces bloated and clothes in tattered rags. “No.”

Rachel nods, expression grim behind her scarf. “Then let’s get to this town of yours.”

They all move past them together. Half a mile ahead of them, a single road curves up to a partially-collapsed on-ramp to the highway, curving around the mountain bend and out of sight. Ellie can see a white  _ Route 191  _ sign bending at a right angle. A tipped semi-truck lies on the side of the road, its cardboard contents spilled out of the back amongst a small cluster of rusting trucks and cars.

“You can open your eyes now, Liam. Don't look up. Just keep going,” Rachel says, pushing her son forward as he stumbles past the traffic light. “We’re almost there.”

She gives him another nudge, and in that same moment, Ellie catches the thin, near-invisible glimmer of fishing line near her ankles. Ellie reaches for her and shouts, “Rachel, look--”

But it's too late. The pipe bomb strapped to the traffic light pole detonates with a cacophonous blast. The explosion sends Ellie sprawling onto the pavement, the sound of lurching metal wrenching through the smoke and she rolls to the left as the traffic pole comes crashing down in the very spot she had just been, the vibrations rattling through her. She coughs, lungs burning and ears ringing as she struggles to push herself back up from the asphalt, now scattered in metal pieces and body parts.

“Is everyone all right?” she yells, brushing the smoke away from her face. Relief washes through her as she spots Dina, thrown back by the explosion, shoving one of the remaining corpses away from her with a disgusted grunt.

“Peachy,” she replies. “Where’s--”

“Mommy!” 

Liam’s cry cuts through the air. Ellie and Dina turn to see him crouched by Rachel, her leg pinned down by the traffic pole. She pushes against the heavy metal pole, stuck under its position more so than its weight.

“Are you okay?” Dina asks.

“I’m fine,” Rachel grunts, pushing up against the pole, trying to yank her leg free.

Ellie grips the traffic pole. “Dina, let's see if we can lift this.”

With a struggling groan, Ellie and Dina pull as Rachel pushes, the traffic pole lifting by a few inches for her to wriggle out, when a faint rumbling in the distance captures Ellie's attention. A long, brassy air horn wails over the wind, and Ellie nearly drops the pole as she recognizes an armor-plated van, a similar one to the one they had encountered on the train tracks, chugging down the single-lane road into town.

“Oh shit,” she mutters. “Shit, shit, shit! Come on Dina, lift!”

“I'm trying!”

The air horn howls again and this time, the alarmed shriek of the Infected answer. Runners, Stalkers, and Clickers come running out of the strip malls behind them, smashing through boarded-up windows and screaming in response to the sound.

“Push!” Ellie shouts.

With a final grunt and shove, Rachel pries herself out from underneath the traffic pole. She backpedals on her elbows as a Runner breaks ahead of the pack, hurling itself mid-air at them like a linebacker tackle. Ellie whips an arrow into her bow and fires, the broadhead shredding through its throat with a misty spray of blood.

“Nice shot,” Dina remarks, eyes wide.

There's no time for celebration. Dina helps Rachel back on her feet as Ellie knocks another arrow back, semi-automatic gunfire raining overhead from the van’'s open windows, directed at the pack of Infected, drawn to the racket of the airhorn.

Ellie stows her bow and breaks into a wild sprint for the tipped semi-truck on the side of the road. “This way!”

A Clicker reaches for Liam and Rachel kicks her boot into its face, knocking it away as she swoops in for her son, bolting after Ellie, Dina close behind. A second round of gunfire sprays at the next wave of Infected, bullets ricocheting off asphalt and parked cars. One of them zips past Dina and she stumbles as she hides behind the semi-truck, one hand pressed to her bleeding shoulder.

They crouch against the steel cover, hidden for now, noses searing with the metallic smell of blood and ozone. Fiery bullets punish Runner after Runner into the ground. In less than a minute, the wave of Infected all laid dead and twitching behind them. Two pairs of tires screech full-force as the van slams on its brakes at the fallen traffic light.

“They haven't seen us,” Ellie says, inching slowly for the cover of an upside-down sedan. If they were stealthy, they could make it up the on-ramp and onto the highway. They could make it. “Follow me.”

One by one, they run and duck from vehicle to vehicle, zigzagging their way up the road as at least six Hunters climb out of the van to admire their carnage, the diesel engine still chugging. Their voices carry, whooping and hollering in victory, shooting their rifles at the grey sky.

Ellie watches as they start to spread out, likely to loot the corpses. She creeps around a truck and hunches down in the underpass to the on-ramp. Halfway up, a car is ensnared in the metal guard rail, completely exposing them if any of the Hunters turned around.

“Almost there,” she announces in a whisper, pressing a hand to her ribs. They're still painful and swollen, but she ignores their persistent throbbing. “We'll have to be quick. Dina, you're fastest, you go first. I'll watch your back.”

Dina's knees shake, forehead shiny with sweat, but she swallows her fear. “Okay.”

Ellie looks back at the Hunters. They roll over bodies and fish in empty pockets, cradling their rifles the entire time.

“Go!” she hisses, and Dina sprints right through the Hunters’ clear line of sight if they turned around. Her footsteps echo on the slick pavement.

One of them jumps up and turns around just as Dina finds cover behind the truck. “Hey! Did you guys see that?”

“What, more Infected?”

“Maybe. I don't know. It came from over there.” He points at the open spot. “Blow the horn, let's see if we can lure 'em out.”

The driver inside the van slams his fist to the steering wheel, the amplified horn wailing and dissipating throughout the valley.

“You're seeing shit,” one of the Hunters remarks turning back around. “Come on, let's go.”

“I ain’t seein’ shit,” the Hunter snarks back. “I know what I saw. Maybe it’s some live ones. I saw it. You didn’t.”

“Hey, take a look around,” pipes in a third Hunter, giving the first a light shove. “There’s no fucking way anyone else but us is out here. This place is abandoned as shit.”

“I know what I saw!” yells the first Hunter, shoving the third one back twice as hard. “I’m not fucking crazy, there’s someone else here!”

Ellie leans into Rachel, still carrying Liam. “Go while they're distracted.”

“You're sure? What about you?”

“You've got a kid. I'll figure it out.”

“All right.”

The arguing Hunters begin to throw punches at each other as Rachel runs forward with Liam in her arms. She’s about halfway across when the toe of her boot catches the lip of a pothole and she stumbles, Liam crying out.

“Over there!” one of the Hunters shouts, spotting her. “It’s that woman and the kid!”

“Get 'em!”

Rifles swing off shoulders and take aim at Rachel and Liam, still running. Ellie slaps an arrow into her bow and breaks her cover. She releases it into the chest of the nearest hunter, who takes an audible gulp of air before sinking to his knees between the popping guns.

“Fuck, it's that other girl!” roars one of the Hunters. “Into the van! Go, go, go!”

The gunfire stops and Ellie sprints behind Rachel and Liam, who finally make it to the semi-truck with Dina. But cover doesn't matter anymore, the van revving like an iron lion, tires screeching and bowling back up the road. Ellie doesn't stop running, following the curve in the potholed road around the bend, the old steel bridge and the other side now in sight. Her ribs hurt and her head is heavy and light at the same time, struggling to breathe, the van ripping up the on-ramp and power sliding around the bend like a hairpin turn.

_ Fuck fuck fuckity fuck _ , she panics. There's no way they can make it across in time, bullets cracking at her feet, the armored van and its occupants barreling her towards death. 

Dina ahead of her darts off to the side of the road and snatches Ellie’s shirt before she runs past her.

“Over here!” she yells, tugging her down to a place where an old rockslide had broken off chunks of the asphalt road. Rachel, still holding Liam, joins them by sliding down the steep, gravel slope. The van screeches to a stop, boots scraping on wet pavement, gunfire opening on them again and echoing in the tight ravine.

“Ahh!” Liam screams, and Ellie looks up to see a spray of blood and Rachel come tumbling down. Ellie rushes forward, catching Liam before he hits his head, his little fists clutching to her tight and tears streaming down his red cheeks.

“Rachel!” Dina cries.

Rachel struggles, but pushes herself up, the back of her t-shirt staining with a growing patch of blood.

“Just a scratch,” she croaks through gritted teeth, warding off any pain, reaching for her shotgun. Her whole arm shakes as she loads the cartridge. “Get to cover.”

She raises her shotgun and a deafening blast sends one of the Hunters flying. Ellie, still holding Liam, and Dina skirt down the rubble, boulders wobbling under their flimsy sneakers, threatening to jostle free and crush them. Ellie's foot catches and she yelps, Liam clutching her jacket, and Dina grabs her from under the arm. Bullets and buckshot ricochet like firecrackers on the rocks around them.

Ellie ducks behind a car-sized boulder, legs heavy and her knees feeling like they’d blow out if she went any further. She knocks an arrow back, rising to aim at a Hunter clambering down behind Rachel and drives him into the rocks. A second arrow misses its target as buckshot scatters her view with an explosive cloud of dirt and rock.

“This way!” Dina exclaims, climbing over to the outside edge, a gangly spruce forest offering adequate cover to run and hide.

Ellie grabs Liam again. “C'mon, kid, this--”

Her head suddenly explodes with blackness and pain as she's thrown backwards, severed from Liam. She squints through spots of white popping before her eyes, head pounding.

“What the…” She leans over and spits out a mouthful of blood. “What the fuck?”

“I'm sorry,” Rachel replies, towering over her and taking Liam's hand. “I can't keep an Infected girl around my son.”

Ellie opens her mouth, shocked speechless. Rachel knew she was Infected. How? Had Dina told her? Had she--

“Ellie!” Dina yells, snapping her back to their situation at hand. Rachel abandons them in the opposite direction, dragging Liam along, her shotgun over her bloodied shoulder. They disappear into the thick brush as Dina ducks out from the trees on the other side. She yanks Ellie to her feet, flinching at the bullets whizzing past her. “Ellie! What happened? Where's Rachel going?”

“I don't know,” Ellie replies, wiping the blood dribbling from her split lip. “Doesn't matter now.”

Ellie breaks her cover, rifle rounds screaming overhead, zigzagging between the dead trees, jumping over visible gaps and tripping into others.

“Into the woods!” a Hunter yells. “Don’t let ‘em get away!”

Ellie whips a look over her shoulder as they flee. The Hunters pursue them through the forest, darting between the trees, too quick and too concealed to keep track of. How many had she killed? Two? Three? She's lost track, and with a sinking feeling, reaches back to find only two arrows left in her quiver.

“There’s so fucking many of them,” she pants, grunting in pain and trying to keep her balance, slipping on a mix of dead needles and mud. If they could just make it to the Dam...

A Hunter suddenly lunges from the shadows, grabbing a fistful of the back of Ellie's shirt. The impact throws her to the ground and knocks the wind from her lungs. He launches himself onto her and she rolls to the side to dodge the punch, fumbling for her knife.

“I've got one!” the man shouts, meaty hands pinning her down. “Over here! Over by the--”

The hunter jerks back as Dina tackles him from behind, strangling him with Ellie’s fallen bow and wrapping her legs around his torso so that even when he tries to throw her off like a bucking bronco, she doesn't let go. He chokes, face swelling purple as Ellie doubles over. She unlatches the knife from her belt and piledrives it into his exposed stomach. A stream of blood follows the blade as she yanks it out and stabs him again, Dina releasing him as he slumps over. Whether he's dead or not, neither stick around to find out, Dina passing the bow back and running downhill.

“The dam!” Dina shouts. “Ellie, I can see the dam!”

_ Almost there _ , Ellie thinks, spotting the frothing white rapids of the Snake River weaving between dark trees and sharp rocks.  _ Not much further… _

Dina skitters to a stop at the edge. “Fuck. You can't swim!”

A whole new kind of fear fills Ellie's throat as she glances down at the rabid, swirling waters. She clutches Dina's hand. “Doesn't matter.”

“You're not jumping!” Dina screams, yanking her back, and pointing downstream. Hundreds of thick logs are jammed on top of each other, the result of a washed-out forest. On the other side of it is one of the hydroelectric plants for the Jackson dam. Even from this distance, they can make out the lights of the patrolmen, appearing to be heading towards the echo of gunfire. “We can cross over there!”

They've no time to argue. A rifle round shatters the bark off a nearby tree and Ellie fires a blind arrow at the shooter, just emerging from a cluster of firs. A frustrated howl tells her she hit her mark.

They sprint parallel to the river and don't pause when they reach the log jam, timbers precariously stacked like an incomplete Jenga tower. The whole contraption groans underneath them, water spraying between the holes and soaking through their shoes. Ellie struggles to keep her eyes ahead on the opposite bank, watching her footing on the slick logs.

“They're gettin’ away!” a man cries from upriver, right where they had been only moments before. Ellie seizes the opportunity, pivoting and knocking back another arrow, sending it sailing for a clear shot of the man's skull. A woman and three more men take his place and open fire on them down below.

Dina climbs over a mass of tangled roots clustered with dark soil and still attached to an enormous white pine. She hauls herself up and reaches for Ellie's hand behind her. Ellie jumps and the logs underneath her give way, clutching Dina's arm and toeing at the wood, finding temporary footholds, her belly scraping the bark.

Ellie's eyes scan the metal scaffolding stretching above the river. Her heart leaps in recognition of the figure standing there and she waves her arms frantically. “Jesse! Jesse, down here!”

Jesse startles and nearly throws himself over the railing. “Ellie? Dina? What the hell?”

“Get us out of here!”

The entire log jam shudders underneath them.

“Trying to!” he yells back, gunfire rippling over the roar of the river. His boots thunder across the scaffolding and he returns with a handful of patrolmen, who take position and return fire at the Hunters. A wild-eyed Joel shoves his way to the front.

“Ellie!” he bellows.

“Joel!” she shouts back, desperate and struggling over haphazard logs to get close to them. “Joel!”

“Hang on, Ellie!” Joel rips a loose piece of rebar from the scaffolding and extends it down to them, the platform too high to reach. “Okay, grab on and I'll pull you up!”

Ellie looks to Dina. “You first.”

Dina nods and grasps the rebar with both hands. The entire log jam shifts under them again and the rebar plunks into the river, washed away by the frothing current.

“Shit!” Dina exclaims.

“It's fine, I'll boost you up,” Ellie says, balancing on two very unstable logs with her fingers knotted together. Dina places her sneaker in her hands and lays a firm hand on Ellie's shoulder, dark eyes glistening. She's terrified, but not for herself. Dina knew that going first meant Ellie might not make it. So Ellie hesitates and offers her a rueful smile. “I'll be okay. Promise.”

“You better be,” Dina replies. “I said I wouldn't leave you behind.”

“And you won't.”

It looks as if Dina wants to say something else, but whatever it is, Ellie doesn't find out. Because right behind Dina she watches as something small and oblong sails into the heart of the log jam, not even thirty feet away.

“GRENADE!” Jesse screams.

“Ellie!” 

Joel’s cry is the last thing Ellie hears before a thunderous and fiery explosion erupts the log jam in all directions. A colossal wall of water swells and washes downstream with ferocious power and speed, the white rapids breaking through. She opens her mouth to cry out and the water thrusts her off her feet, plunging her down deep underwater.

Ellie inhales and her lungs burn, every fiber inside her screaming, hands flailing and legs kicking. Her hands touch something rough and heavy above her - a log? - and she pushes against it, the current bouncing her up for a brief gulp of air before dunking her back down. She reaches for something, anything, knees knocking against what she can only guess is the bottom of the river bed. Everything just keeps spinning, round and round and round.

And then, her foot catches something, and she kicks,  _ hard _ , breaking through the surface at long last. Her head ducks under again, but this time, her knee hits something solid, but soft. Blindly, she follows it, her head rising above water and coughing the water from her chest, hands reaching out in front of her and digging into a stony shoreline.

“Dina!” she cries, eyes stinging and blurring into a brown and grey world, staggering onto the river bank. “Dina! Dina!”

She rubs her eyes and glances behind her. What remains of the log jam floats lazily downstream.

“Dina!” Ellie cries out again, panic and tears wringing her throat, when she suddenly spots a familiar shape bobbing facedown amongst a cluster of logs. “Dina!”

Ellie wades her way to Dina's body, shoving the logs aside and lifting her from underneath. She slips and falls and she tries again, thrusting Dina to shore, quickly rolling her over. She isn't breathing.

“Dina! No, no, no…”

Ellie places one hand on top of the other and presses into the spot just below Dina's sternum. She keeps her arms stiff and compresses with her full weight.  _ One, two, three, four _ , she thinks, just as Joel had once taught her, and just as she was going to save Dina.

“Come on!” Ellie screams at her, forearms weakening with each compression, but she fights it. “Come on, Dina! Please!”

Ellie inhales enough to fill her entire chest, pulls Dina's head back, and expels as much air down her throat as she can. When she gets no response, she inhales and places her mouth on Dina's again, exhaling long and hard, hoping and praying that this was not going to be the end.

Dina's chest gurgles and she suddenly springs up, coughing up water and gasping for air, escaping death. Her eyes flutter open and she finds herself wrapped in Ellie's strong and slender arms, tears streaming down her freckled cheeks and pressing her forehead to Dina's shoulder.

“Where'd you learn to swim?” Dina croaks. Ellie shakes her head, cradling Dina instead, as if the river would take her away if she let go. Dina raises a cold hand strokes Ellie's temple. “Hey, hey it's okay. I'm alive. We made it. We made it, Ellie, and you…you saved my life again.”

If Ellie was sobbing out of relief before, something frightening hardens across her face.

“Ellie?” Dina says, blinking rapidly. “Ellie, what is it?”

“I…”

She can barely speak. She had done it without a second thought, and now it cost her. Her grip loosens, her entire body withering and crestfallen.

“Dina, I… I'm sorry,” is all she can muster. She hates the way Dina looks at her, confused and glassy-eyed, completely unaware of what was about to happen. She had no idea.

“Sorry? Ellie, I don't understand. What are you sorry for? We escaped. We can go back home, now.”

“No, Dina, we... “ She sighs and can't look her in the eye. “We can't go back, because… Because…”

Ellie looks to the sky, snow falling and melting on her nose, and closes her eyes.

“Because I'm infected and… so are you.”


	8. Chapter 8

Escaping the freezing sleet and snow cascading down on Ellie and Dina's shoulders is near impossible. They drag each other along, nearly frozen, clothes wet and feet numb. The darkness of night swallows what little light they have, and it isn't until they trip into the rocks do they find a cave-like alcove from the storm. They trudge up to it, teeth chattering and stiff-legged, and fall to their hands and knees to catch their shivering breaths.

Ellie recovers first, picking herself up with a groan to search the alcove for anything useful. She tosses withered pine boughs and sticks into a pile. Dina sits up, grunting as she rests against the cavern wall, watching her. Ellie's red, trembling hands pick up a handful of rocks.

"Ellie…" Dina begins. Ellie ignores her. Dina clears her throat. "Ellie… W-What are you doing?"

"M-Magnesium," Ellie replies through a congested nose. She flicks out her knife and strikes the stones. When nothing happens, she picks up another handful to try. "S-So we can start a f-fire."

Dina blows on her hands and watches. Ellie goes through three, four, five more piles of rocks with no results. Her knife shrieks harsh and metallic against the stone, each strike more and more frantic, yet strike after strike after strike falls with no result and-

"Ellie!"

"Fuck!"

Ellie recoils, gashing her own hand, scraping a bloody layer of skin from her knuckles. She drops the knife and clutches her hand to her chest, inhaling shuddering breaths through clenched teeth.

"F-Fucking thing," she snarls, and before Dina can intervene, Ellie picks up the knife again and keeps trying.

"Ellie, come on," Dina says. "J-Just stop."

"No."

"It's no u-use."

"I-I can make it work."

"It's n-not going to w-work."

Ellie ignores her, face hard. She doesn't even look up, holding her knife firm despite the shivering of her hands. "It h-has to."

"It's f-f-fine, Ellie. We-"

"No, D-Dina, it's not fine," Ellie snaps, wiping her bloody fingers on her ice-coated jeans. "If we don't light a fire, we're dead. We'll never get back to Jackson."

Ellie strikes her knife to a dark, jagged rock. For a moment, a spark flickers and then fades.

"S-See?" Ellie says. "Sp-Sparks."

Dina frowns, eyebrows creasing with concern, watching Ellie struggle. She strikes her knife against the rock again and again, less panicked than before, but amounting to nothing. The sparks vanish before they even touch the kindling pile. Ellie begins to slow, her knife blade dulling, scraping against the hard stone.

"Ellie," Dina tries again, softer this time. "Ellie, come h-here."

Defeated, Ellie joins her, drawing her knees up and pressing close for warmth.

"L-Let me see your hand," Dina says. Ellie passes it to her, some of the blood already scabbing over. Ellie winces as Dina brushes away the dirt. The wound wasn't the cleanest, but it would have to do. "C-Can I borrow your knife?"

Wordlessly, Ellie passes it to her. Dina pulls at the fabric of her own t-shirt and tears out a footlong strip with it. Despite the numbness in her fingers, she deftly wraps a tight bandage around Ellie's hand with what appears to be a well-practiced maneuver.

Dina gives Ellie her hand back and stands. She picks up the rock by the kindling pile. Using Ellie's knife, she imitates her, striking the rock in a shower of pathetic sparks.

Ellie watches her, worn and empty inside. A part of her knows she should be angry, helpless at the mercy of the elements, but she isn't. Her hand throbs and she can't feel her toes.

Suddenly, sparks catch the dried tinder on the cave floor. The tiny flame ignites an awakening in Ellie's chest and she doubles-over, clapping her bandaged hand out to shield the flame from the wind. Dina flattens herself on the ground and gently blows, the pine needles curling bright orange and then black, pungent smoke trickling upwards in a small spiral.

"Come on, come on," Dina mutters, encouraging the tiny flame. "Almost there…"

"More sticks," Ellie says, still shielding the flame, and Dina darts around the inside of the cave, shoes scuffing on the bare rock. She snaps a handful of twigs to the size of pretzels, gingerly laying them down in front of the flame. The twigs catch and the flame burns just a little brighter and a little larger.

"We've got it!" Dina cheers.

"Not yet, get more stuff," Ellie replies, her hand warming as she cradles the flame, feeling coming back to her fingers. "Just hang on…"

Dina scours the back of the shallow cave and returns with a larger pile of sticks. She breaks them down and lays them on the fire, and Ellie dodges out of the way just as the single flame erupts into twenty, dead leaves crackling to ash and smoke. Bright, orange light illuminates the entire cave.

"Get more!" Ellie exclaims, scrambling for anything flammable. She finds only bare rock in the immediate vicinity. More. They needed more!

"I can't find anything!" Dina panics, and watches in horror as the fire wanes, taking the light and warmth with it. "No! No, no, no…"

The fire leaves them entirely in darkness and smoke.

"Fuck," Dina whimpers, throwing her hands on her head "Fuck. Fuck! What the hell are we supposed to do now?"

A part of Ellie wants to say  _endure and survive_. But she doesn't. She presses her lips together and says nothing at all, turning her back on Dina. Even in the dark, Ellie can't face her. Soon, Ellie knew, Dina's skin would dry and flake, the blood vessels in her eyes would burst, and the hair on her head would fall out and give way to soft, fungal tissue…

"Ellie," Dina says, sharp, and it occurs to Ellie that she had said her name more than once, now.

"What?" she replies.

"What's the plan?"

"There is no plan."

"What?" Dina replies in utter disbelief. "There's always a fucking plan."

Ellie shakes her head. "No. Not this time."

"Bullshit, Ellie!"

"Well, what do you want me to say?" Ellie fires back, vitriol surfacing as she faces her. "That we're gonna be okay? Because we're not. And even if we were, you're infected."

Dina bristles, jaw tightening. She fixes a dark glare on Ellie. "No."

"Yes, Dina."

"No!" Dina shouts, on the verge of tears and stomping her foot. "You saved me! How does that make me infected? It's not like you bit me or… or…"

"Because I revived you, Dina!" Ellie yells back at her. "You and I both know it spreads that way!"

Dina rapidly shakes her head. She jabs a finger at Ellie mid-grimace. "No! No, you're lying, you're making that bullshit up!"

"I'm not lying! Dina, listen to me, please."

Ellie takes a step closer and is met with Dina pushing her away, crying and gasping for breath. "Get away from me!"

"Dina, just calm down, listen-" Ellie tries to say, stepping close to her again with open palms, but Dina turns and flails her fists at her. Ellie catches one before it hits her, the other beating against her shoulder. She winces but doesn't back down. "I don't want-"

"Let go of me, Ellie!"

"Dina, just-"

"I said let fucking go of me! Don't touch me, Ellie, don't fucking touch me!"

Her voice cracks with pain and fear. Her wrist slips flee of Ellie's grip, but the moment she does, she grabs at Ellie's jacket, pulling them close. She buries her face into Ellie's chest, warm and heavy tears wetting her shirt, Dina's fingernails digging into the worn fabric, sobbing.

"What the… What the hell are we gonna do, Ellie?" she whimpers. "What can we do?"

Ellie hugs her close and doesn't let go. "We'll do what we have to do. I'm not leaving you."

The small fact seems to comfort Dina. She wipes her nose with her sleeve as they settle down near the back of the cave, a mere six feet deep, safeguarded from most of the wind and the snow. Ellie guessed it wouldn't take more than a few hours for them to become trapped inside or frozen to death.

Dina huddles against her. "Ellie?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're here."

+++

Beyond the mouth of the cave, the blizzard rampages on. Ellie struggles to stay awake, biting her chapped lip until it bleeds, knowing that falling asleep was a sign of certain death in this fierce cold. Her own mind plays tricks on her, eyes bugging out in the constant darkness, struggling to see. The view is the same when she closes them.

Dina jabs her in the ribs. "Hey. What is that?"

Ellie feels her arm lift and point. She looks up, squinting through blurry eyes. Beyond the cave, a small, orange light flickers in the dark. At first, it's the size of a match, a pinprick in the night, but it grows as the source moves closer.

It's a handheld torch, the flame bobbing with every step of its carrier. Someone is coming.

Ellie leans against the cave wall as she stands up. She pulls out her knife. "Stay here."

With a groan, Dina rises alongside her. "No."

Ellie doesn't argue. They were close enough to death as it were. Together, they stumble to the front of the cave, snow whipping in every direction. Ellie cringes as the full forces of the wind hits her, howling above their heads and whistling through the pine trees.

Ellie pauses. The whistling isn't coming from the pine trees. It's too rhythmic, loud and short. A moment passes before she recognizes it as an SOS call, and realises it's coming from the man carrying the torch. He's lost. Alone. She squints through the blowing snow and watches a silhouette struggle to keep the hood of robes on their head.

Her stomach drops. It's one of the people from the campground.

For a moment, she considers retreating back inside the cave to hide. But a primal drum beats between her ears and she knows that if either of them are going to survive, they would need that torch. With it, they could light a fire and maybe, possibly, stay warm enough to last them the night. The stranger stumbles in circles, oblivious to his observers.

"We'll flank him," Ellie says. She points to where the pine trees are close together, as if also huddling from the cold. "I'll take him down from behind. When I do, you grab the torch and run straight back here."

Dina nods, shivering, her silence an understanding of the grave danger at hand.

The blustery storm muffles each of Ellie's footsteps, crunching over the three inches of snow already covering the forest floor. Evergreen boughs above break and branches crackle all around her in the wind.

Ellie keeps to the shadows. The stranger swings his torch, the orange light reaching into the darkness before being swallowed back up by the storm. He whistles, short and loud, and as Ellie lurks from tree trunk to tree trunk, she prays that he does not receive an answer. The body in the church had been an example of what the stranger could do in a group. Ellie did not want to find out what he could do alone.

She hates that she can't see Dina at all, sneaking somewhere on the other side of the stranger. But if she could see her, it would mean the stranger could, too. In the dark, they were safe.

Ellie creeps up from behind, blending in with the long shadow of the pine tree. She empties her lungs, steadying her shaking insides, legs tightening. She didn't have the energy for a struggle. She needed to make it quick.

The stranger turns away from her and Ellie makes her move, launching from the safety of the tree with her knife raised. She lunges towards him but her wet sneakers slip on the thin layer of ice concealed in the snow, and she crashes hard to the ground, knife flying out of her hand.

"The hell?" The stranger whirls the torchlight on her. His lip curls beneath his hood in a disgusted scowl, and Ellie watches, almost in slow-motion, as he pulls a rusted machete from his belt. "Now, what do we have here? A lost little lamb?"

"Shit!"

The machete swings and she rolls in the snow and out of the way, the blade striking the place she used to be, the ice spider-webbing. She scrambles up, sneakers still slipping, and the machete cleaves the space between her and the stranger. Ellie backpedals with a gasp as the machete swings again, flinging her hands out for balance and keeping them out of the way, defenseless.

The stranger corners her against a large pine tree, the machete blade tilted at her abdomen. He grins, teeth stained yellow in the firelight, still bearing the torch in his other hand.

Suddenly, he howls in pain, Dina stabbing him in the shoulder with Ellie's knife. He spins around, dropping the torch and punching her in the face. She shrieks and he clutches a fistful of her hair, throwing her face-down into the snow.

"Ellie!" Dina cries as the stranger pins a knee into her back, machete poised under her throat. Ellie bolts from the tree and tackles the stranger from behind, ripping her knife out of his shoulder.

"Get the torch!" Ellie commands.

Dina pushes herself up and rushes for it, the flames on it burning bright despite the whipping wind and cold.

"Got it!" she shouts, raising it high enough to watch Ellie and the stranger tumble through snow and blood, wrestling and snarling like a pair of savage wolves. The stranger wields the machete in a reverse grip, stabbing at the snow as she dodges, but only just. With a furious cry, she stabs him in the shoulder over and over, but it doesn't slow him down. The machete comes down for her head again and it misses, impaling through the snow and into the earth. He tries to jerk it free, but it doesn't move.

Ellie seizes her opportunity. She slams a knee up into his groin as he gulps in shock. She kicks him and grips the machete handle with both slippery hands. He groans and reaches for her leg, thick fingers curling around her ankle just as she wedges the machete free. She whips around and heaves it down at his arm, a scream and blood splattering the white snow.

But she doesn't stop there. In a blind rage, Ellie chops at his arm and then his chest and his head and his legs, each of his screams driving the next strike into his flesh. No one would ever fucking touch Dina. Ever.

It's only when his screams fade, echoing away, does Ellie lower her weapon and step back. The stranger is an unrecognizable mess, blood pooling beneath his butchered body, black mud and fresh snow sticking to his torn robes.

Dina approaches. Her left eye was swollen shut and her hair now hung ragged, but she casts a wary look at Ellie. "You okay?"

"Enough," Ellie replies. She spits a mouthful of blood out at the stranger's body and wipes her lips with her sleeve, coat and bandages torn in the fray. "Fucker."

"Let's go back," Dina says, starting back for the cave, when Ellie picks up one of the stranger's still-attached arms. Dina frowns. "Ellie, what are you doing?"

"Bringing him back to the cave."

"What? Why? He's dead."

"Because we're going to need something to burn if we want to stay alive."

+++

The robed man's body burns longer than either Ellie or Dina expected. At first, it burns black and wretched, a horrendous stink filling the entirety of the cave that neither girl can withstand for long before retching. They bury their noses in the crook of their elbows, eyes squeezed shut in the stinging smoke. Ellie squints an eye open as livid orange flames incinerate flesh and organs. She only opens them fully again when white smoke simmers off of charring bones. The smoke blows out of the cave and into the dark, a thin wall of warmth shielding them from the icy blizzard beyond. Now, at least, they were out of the cold. Ellie could feel her fingers, toes, nose, and ears again.

Ellie looks at her bandaged hand soaked in the man's blood and winces as her ribs begin to throb in a new, sharp pain. Her lip had stopped bleeding, dried blood crusted to the corner of her mouth. She knows she should feel hungry, too, but instead feels only a hollowness in her core, as if knowing it didn't matter.

Every now and then, she watches as Dina stands up, scoops up a handful of snow, and presses it to her swollen eye, darkening to an ugly bluish-black in the dying light. She sits at Ellie's side.

"Hey," Dina says, voice coarse and weary. "You look like shit."

"Look who's talking," Ellie smarts back, the comment weaseling a smirk out of her. She points at Dina's black eye. "If you can even see out of that thing."

"A little, but it hurts."

She tries to open the eye, barely cracking it open, a tear rolling down her soiled cheek. She gently dabs it away with her thumb.

"At least we're alive," she remarks. She grimaces at the burning corpse. "How do you think Rachel and Liam are doing?"

Something between a scoff and a scowl makes Ellie shake her head. "Who cares?"

"I do," Dina replies, almost apologetic.

"Oh." Ellie sighs and shrugs. She wasn't sure if they were fortunate to be sheltered from the blizzard, or whether they were simply trapped in the cave to slowly die. She shrugs. "I don't know."

"I hope they're okay."

Ellie says nothing. When she closes her eyes, she can still imagine Rachel silhouetted above her.

" _I'm sorry_ ," she had said. " _I can't keep an Infected girl around my son_."

Rachel and Liam were gone, now, but it still stung.

"Did you tell her?" Ellie asks Dina, not looking at her.

"Tell her what?" Dina answers.

"That I'm infected?"

"What? No, Ellie, no. I wouldn't do that. Is that why she left us?"

"I think so."

"Well, it's a good thing she did," Dina sneers. "Because now there's two infected girls she'd have to deal with."

The words are said with a dark sort of pride, but Ellie's insides twist and ache at them. She rakes her fingers through her hair. She wants to scream. She wants to cry. She glares at the pyre and wants to see the entire world burn.

"Dina…" she begins, faltering, and then tries again. "Dina, I… I don't know if I can go through with this again."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't watch you turn like… like Riley and Sam did."

"And what if I don't turn? What if I'm immune, like you?"

Bitter anger rises in Ellie's chest. Dina also being immune was the stupidest coincidence she could think of at the moment, and grim experience had taught Ellie that those chances were slim to none. "You're not."

"You don't know that. How long has it been since the river? Four hours? Five? I'd be showing the signs by now."

"Different people turn at different times," Ellie remarks. Sam had gotten bitten in the afternoon and turned overnight. Riley had gotten bitten at sunrise and… She didn't want to remember any further than that.

Dina picks up a stick and pokes the fire. "So… What are you going to do when you get back to Jackson?"

Ellie shrugs. She wasn't even sure if going back to Jackson without Dina was an option. They would all be asking where she was, if she had survived, how Ellie had made it and Dina didn't…

Dina studies her in solemn grace. "You're worried about what they're going to say, aren't you?"

Ellie casts her gaze from the fire up to the cavern ceiling. It was as if Dina had read her mind.

"Hey, listen," Dina says, bumping her shoulder. "What would happen if… I don't know. What if you tell people a Clicker got to me, instead? They would believe that."

"No," Ellie replies, shaking her head and rubbing the back of her neck, muscles tight. "I can't lie anymore. People have to know I'm infected. They should have known the moment I stepped foot into Jackson. And they should know it's because of me that you're… you're infected, too."

Dina nods. "Okay. So, if you tell people the truth, what do you think will happen?"

"It'll probably depend on what Tommy says." Ellie shrugs. "Joel thinks they'll lynch or exile me."

"But… What do you think?"

"I don't know, Dina. Because no matter where I go, there's not really a place for someone like me."

Dina sighs. She throws her stick into the fire. "That's bullshit. You're one of the most amazing people I've ever met, Ellie. And I've met a lot of people."

It's a compliment that normally would have made Ellie smile or blush, but she doesn't. Instead, she replies with a soft, "Thanks."

"You know, I never thought it would happen like this," Dina continues. She makes a wide, sweeping gesture at the blizzard outside. "I've been mugged and hunted and escaped QZ's and even survived a car crash, but this… This can't be it. I don't want it to be. Not gonna lie, I was really hoping I could live a life long enough to get married in the town barn, have a kid or two, and spend my golden years picking strawberries with the other old bitties. Stupid, huh?"

The image of an older Dina, her olive skin tanned like leather, with silvery strands in her dark hair, bending over to pick strawberries by the sunset manifests in Ellie's mind.

"No," she replies softly. "That sounds… nice."

For a brief moment, Ellie imagines herself older, too. She joins the older Dina in the strawberry fields with a flannel shirt over her shoulder and barn keys jangling from her belt, just as it would be if she had closed the stables any other day. Maybe one of the town dogs, a scruffy mutt that's friendly to everyone, might follow. She would steal a strawberry from Dina's basket and…

Ellie was getting ahead of herself. It was a fantasy of a different Ellie and a different Dina. She hadn't imagined a future like that since before Riley passed, and it was only a sordid reminder of things that would never be.

"Dina… There's another reason Joel and I came to Jackson," Ellie confesses. She licks her lips and wrings her hands together, her bandaged one soiled with blood. "We didn't come here just to escape. And I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before, but it… it has to do with me being infected."

Dina tilts her head and listens.

"We were looking for the Fireflies," she continues. Recognition flickers in Dina's eyes at the mention of the faction. "They wanted to use me as a vaccine. The only place they could do the operation was Salt Lake City."

"What do you mean?" Dina asks, brow furrowing.

"I think Joel lied to me. He said there were other people that were immune, but… I don't think there is. I'm the only one. And the Fireflies thought that was worth fighting for."

Dina doesn't say anything, her expression unreadable.

"I didn't go through with the operation," Ellie admits. "I wanted to... I mean, I knew I was going to die if I did it. No one ever really said, but… I just knew. Joel knew. I think that's why he…"

She trails off, memories hazy. Bright lights. Clinical smells. An alarm of some sort, high-pitched and unwavering. Joel and Marlene's voices arguing. It wasn't clear about what, probably her, but she wasn't sure.

Dina swallows hard. "Both of my brothers died in Salt Lake City."

Ellie snaps up, eyes wide. "What? How?"

"Fireflies." Dina absentmindedly picks up a handful of snow and throws it at the fire. It sizzles, evaporating instantly. "They didn't care who we were. They just… God, Ellie. It was a massacre."

Dina pulls her legs up to her chest and rests her forehead on her knees.

"I'm sorry," is all Ellie can think of to say. She inwardly chides herself for never asking more about Dina's family, but she knew no words would ever be able to bring them back or lift the grief hanging over Dina's shoulders. She places a comforting hand on her back, moving in slow, wide circles.

Dina wipes her nose and clears her throat. "So as far as I'm concerned… The Fireflies are a bunch of bullshit. They promised everyone hope, and they failed. They were so desperate to win that they were going to kill you."

Ellie's cheeks burn. She wants Dina to be right, her inner strength so different from Ellie's own.

"So what if they did?" she says, with a shrug. "If I died, but they got a vaccine, it would mean people like you and Riley and everyone else I've ever met wouldn't get infected. Because people like you deserve to live and get married and have kids and grow old and pick strawberries and…"

It's too much. Ellie bows her head in tears and survivor's guilt. Everything inside her hurts, burning with anguish and rage and love, swelling like a wildfire in the shifting winds. Everything inside hurts more than the throbbing in her ribs and the aching in her blistered feet. She had lost count of the nights she couldn't sleep, haunted by the voices that would never speak again and the things she couldn't tell them. It makes her hate everything. And Ellie knows, without a shred of doubt, that the older she got, the worse it would become. She can't bear the thought of it.

Ellie sobs, wracked with grief, just as miserable as she had been the same night Riley died. Dina finds her way in, wrapping her arms around the girl, seeing her for nothing more than that. It's the closest they've ever been.

"Oh, Ellie…" Dina whispers. "You deserve to live, too."

Ellie shakes her head. "No, I… I don't want this anymore. It's not fair."

"I know. But, Ellie…" Dina cups a soft hand to Ellie's tearstained cheek, turning her so Dina can look at her brilliant green, bloodshot eyes. She even gives her a warm, gentle smile. "Without people like you, there can't be people like me."

Dina's kiss is tender, kind, and unlike any other sensation Ellie had ever experienced. She and Riley had kissed before, but it wasn't anything like this. Her chest wants to explode, her head pounding so hard it aches, and the base of her spine tingling, sending hot waves throughout her body. Ellie holds her breath, as if she could freeze time and bind her to this very moment forever, Dina's soft, supple lips pressed to hers, because it says things that words never could.

Dina pulls away. She pushes Ellie's hair back from her freckled face with a bemused smile. Her thumb passed over the thin, white scar on her right eyebrow.

"Do you remember what you told me when we first met?" Dina says. "The night we started this crazy-ass adventure?"

Ellie sniffles and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. "Um…"

"You're tired of leaving people behind."

"Oh."

"But… I think I understand now," Dina says, her voice growing softer and softer, almost a whisper. "This isn't you leaving me behind. This is me taking the next step. It was going to happen someday, and it…it happened to be today. I get to spend my last hours with my new best friend… And maybe something more than that."

Ellie frowns. "I just don't want you to go."

"I know. So, I want you to take this." Dina pries the blue leather bracelet from her wrist. "My nana made this for me right before she died. She was one of the lucky ones and passed in her sleep. And she said to me that when I felt alone or scared, that this bracelet would be a reminder that she was always with me. And… I want it to do the same for you."

Ellie opens her mouth to protest, but Dina slips it on Ellie's hand before she can.

"Take it. Please," Dina says. "If there's anyone that's going to remember me, I want it to be you."

"Dina, I… I can't.," Ellie replies, fear choking her by the throat.

"You will, because a wise person once told me that you can't be responsible for someone else's death. You just have to do what you have to do to feel better and move on."

Those were Ellie's own words, shared between them back in the aspen forest. Before she killed the hunters, before she fractured her ribs, before she told Dina anything at all about herself. That Ellie and the Ellie she was now felt like two different people, her concept of self as shattered as her breaking heart.

Dina picks up Ellie's knife, jutting out of the dirt. She puts it in Ellie's hand opposite of the bracelet.

"And soon," she says. "I'm going to need you. I…" She falters, withering at the reality of losing her mind and all control of her body. "I don't want to die alone."

"You won't," Ellie says, quick to reassure her, because she knows what that feels like, too. It's her worst fear. Her fingers close around the knife's worn, wooden handle. When the time came, she would have to be quick. The Cordyceps was already running rampant in Dina's brain.

They lapse into a few moments of silence.

"Damn," Dina says with a longing stare into the oppressing dark. Somewhere, out there, Jackson was still waiting for them. "We were so close, weren't we?"

Ellie nods. "Yeah. We were."

It was strange to think that only five days ago, Ellie had been desperate to escape Jackson's walls. Now, she only wanted to be safely within them. But, she wonders, would Dina still be some beautiful, mysterious girl she couldn't muster the courage to even talk to?

Ellie's eyes burn with fatigue as she struggles to stay awake. Dina, meanwhile, lapses into a soft snore, cradled in the nook of Ellie's arm, her head resting against her. It's all they can do to keep the warmth from the fire trapped between them.

Ellie fights the drowsiness, but exhaustion lays over her like a heavy blanket. Somewhere, deep within, the cold calm of death emerges, growing over fear and instinct into reality. Ellie closes her eyes. She's tired of all of it. Numb. Staying awake, being alive, was too much to withstand any longer. She can't feel Dina leaning into her anymore.

They would die here, withering like sick trees, folding silently into the dark.


	9. Chapter 9

Ellie dreams of a place she's been before. She's in Bill's truck again, rain breaking through the golden sunshine to patter on the windshield. She sits not in a hospital gown, but the ranger's jacket Dina had stolen from Cottonwood Tower. A strange glow resonates from the bloodstained sleeve. Ellie pulls it back, finding Dina's bracelet still on her wrist, shimmering blue and iridescent all on its own.

" _Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…_ "

It's a different song than before, but Joel sings just as enthusiastically. He drives with his wrist resting on the steering wheel, his other arm hanging out the window, cruising around the mountain curve. A bright green sign flashes by:  _90 miles to Salt Lake City_.

Somehow, swirling in the back of her mind, Ellie knows she's had this dream before. And like before, everything plays like a memory, but it's all sorts of wrong and everything feels out of place, like different reels of old film spliced together.

"I like this song," she says.

"You do, huh?"

He turns up the dial. Like the landmarks on the ranger's map and the cities they passed through, the words and old melody blend together. Joel knows them. His voice is surprisingly warm and mellow, like the sunlight lounging against the windshield.

"... _But I know when I die my soul is damned._ "

The tape deck clicks and the music ends. She catches another green sign, this one with its legs rusting out and lying on with its corner planted in the ground:  _120 miles to Jackson._

"You wanna talk about it?" Joel asks.

Ellie looks down at her fingernails, blood and dirt crusted underneath them. Her scar bleeds as if it were fresh, seeping through the ranger's jacket and staining her pant leg. She shrugs. "Yes. No. I don't know."

Joel hums in his throat, a deep and gravelly sort of sound, somewhere between pensive and disappointed. Ellie can't tell which. He doesn't look at her as they come around a bend in the road.

"I know you're scared," he replies. "But you gotta know… It'll all work out in the end. Always does."

It's rare for him to sound so hopeful. Joel eases on the brakes, whining from the rain and the rust, stopping along the shoulder. He unbuckles and opens the truck door.

"Well c'mon, now," he beckons with mild impatience.

"Where are we going?"

"Let's just see where this takes us."

Joel dons his pack and wades into the tall grass. Ellie recognizes the rusted sign on the broken wooden fence, reads the scratched lettering:  _Trail Closed Until Further Notice_. Joel ignores it, vaulting over shoddy planks and up a gentle slope leading away from the road. He follows a trail of blood through lilac flowers. It occurs to her that she's never seen wild lilacs in Wyoming.

Joel crests the hill. He stops with his back to her, hands on his hips, waiting for her to catch up.

"Smelling the flowers back there?" he teases.

Ellie rolls her eyes, even though he's right. "Whatever, Joel."

He chuckles, finding himself funny as she reaches the top, the other side of the mountain opening up into a lush, green valley that pitches and rolls from one horizon to the next. Conifer trees give way to aspen groves and then sagebrush prairies, willows kneeling around the silvery ribbon of river passing through. Ellie recognizes it as Jackson, before there was a Jackson.

Down below, a flash of dark grey surges in the brush. Ellie's pulse quickens, watching a wolf lurk in the shadows before glancing at Joel. He doesn't even have his hand on his holster.

"Joel," she whispers. "Do you see it?"

"Course I see it," he rumbles back. "And the rest of the pack out yonder."

He points into the distance at a shallow den. The wolf saunters through the bunchgrasses, a sizable deer in its jaws.

"I couldn't save her," Ellie says, her thoughts returning to Dina. "She's going to die because of me, Joel."

"You don't know that."

Ellie's lips press into a hard, thin line. "You told me to be careful. And I wasn't."

"I did tell you that. But…" H shrugs. "Some things we just gotta figure out for ourselves, don't we Ellie?"

He starts hiking down the hill towards the clearing. Ellie hesitates, but doesn't question him, tracing the same trail in the grass the wolf had taken. The wolf catches wind of them and stiffens before turning to face them, orange eyes as bright as autumn leaves. Joel lifts his hunting rifle from his shoulder and takes aim.

"And some things," he says, peering through the scope. He lines the wolf's chest with his crosshairs. "Well, some things you can't change, Ellie. Nature being one of them."

Joel's finger cradles the trigger. He squeezes it gently, but the bullet ricochets through the dream like a tear in fabric. For one horrific second, the dead deer dangling from the wolf's jaws morphs into Dina's lifeless body, as limp and pale as when Ellie had pulled her from the river. Ellie jumps forward and the landscape slips out from under her feet, the valley and the wolf blackening. A horrid scream echoes from somewhere she can't pinpoint, an ethereal whoosing rushing in her head as she covers her face with bloody hands. Something hard strikes her from behind and she slams down from the wilderness and urban pavement comes rushing up at her. She lands with her hands out in front of her, the wind knocked from her lungs, heart in her throat.

A dark sky pregnant with heavy rain looms above. Thunder rumbles through her bones as she pushes herself up, watching dead autumn leaves claw and rake at broken concrete in the wind. She looks up at the mouth of a shiny glass building. A sign in white lettering perched above the double-doored entrance reads:  _Salt Lake City General Hospital._

It takes her breath away. Was this still a dream? Was this death? Or was she reliving her own Hell?

Ellie stands and backpedals, fear clutching her throat, unable to just turn and run.

 _Run! Run, you fucking idiot, run!_ She screams inside her own head, but it does no use, legs as stiff as concrete.

Someone is coming through the hospital's frosted double doors. Their silhouette staggers like a Clicker, slow and crooked, neck broken with their head cocked to the side. They stop just before the doors open.

 _"Ellie._ "

It's Joel, calling her.

" _Ellie, come home._ "

"Joel?" Ellie calls back, but he is nowhere to be found. "Joel? Where are you? Joel!"

The double doors crack as thunder crashes above her head, lightning illuminating the sky. Ellie braces herself as the glass shatters, shards rushing past her like wind, but it's not wind at all. It's thousands, maybe millions, of orange moths pouring out of the hospital, all flying around her and flying up into the black sky. Ellie gazes up, absolutely transfixed.

"Ellie."

No… No, it couldn't be. She knows that voice, and it isn't Joel. It must have been the dream, playing a cruel trick on her, but… but at the same time, she doesn't want it to be. She wants it to be as real as the rain drops on her cheeks and the moth resting on her shoulder.

"Riley?" she squeaks, breathless. Her brow creases as she gapes at her best friend, emerging from the hospital, still dressed in her signature denim jacket and faded jeans. Ellie can't get enough words out as she throws her arms around her, feeling her closeness, inhaling the familiar scent of cocoa butter, men's deodorant, and bubblegum that was all Riley.

Strong arms squeeze Ellie tight in response, before Riley pushes her back, hands on her shoulders. "Ellie… You have to go."

"What? No, Riley, you're… you're here." Ellie tries to swallow the knot in her throat, but she can't. Her voice trembles. "Where… Where am I supposed to go?"

"Home, Ellie," Riley replies, unblinking. She reaches out to the Firefly pendant -  _her pendant_ \- around Ellie's neck. Her calloused fingertips graze Ellie's neck and she draws a breath at their warmth, as real as any memory. She traces a finger from the pendant, across Ellie's heart, and then down to the blue leather bracelet on Ellie's wrist. Dina's bracelet.

Riley looks to her again, grim. "You need to go home."

"But… But what about you?" Ellie sputters. She knows it's useless. Hopeless. "I don't want to go back without you… I can't leave you behind."

"You wouldn't be. Because now that I'm dead… I'm free."

"But…"

"Hush."

Riley kisses her. Ellie closes her eyes, savoring the moment, and when she opens them again she finds both herself and Riley awash in orange moths. They blot out the storm, the hospital, and each other until Ellie stands alone among the blackness.

And somewhere in the dark, a single firefly shines.

" _No matter what, you keep finding something to fight for._ "

+++

She's awake.

"Dina," Ellie croaks, but her voice comes out a hoarse whisper. "Dina, wake up."

The girl's frame rests against her own. Ellie shifts and an unbelievable pain floods every nerve buried under her raw, cracking skin. She flexes stiff fingers and cringes in silent agony at the pins and needles poking blood and feeling back in. While she could not feel pain in her dreams, now, it was her every existence. And it sparks something, like gas on a flame, rousing a stubborn and necessary thirst to go. Get moving.

 _Come on, Ellie_ , she thinks to herself, gritting her teeth.  _Come on! Fucking move it!_

She drapes one of Dina's arms around her shoulders, grasping her by her waist. It was a position she had been in not too long ago, stumbling over train tracks, and now, it was taking every ounce of pain and energy to come to a stand. Ellie lifts them up, pushing against the rocks behind them, insides screaming.

But she has to keep going. She  _has_ to.

The memory of holding Dina's hands in the rain surfaces in her mind. "I do need you," she had said. She didn't want Dina to leave. "Just… stay here, okay? We're in this mess together and… and I'm going to get us both out of here."

Ellie blinks through the tears stinging her eyes and freezing to her cheeks. She grabs at the collar of Dina's hoodie and gives it a shake.

"Dina," she wants to scream, but it comes out as a whisper. But Dina is still fast asleep, ice flakes crusting her eyelashes. "Dina, come on! You have to wake up!"

Dina wasn't going to go anywhere without her. Ellie clenches her teeth. She had made a promise.

 _One foot at a time_ , Ellie tells herself, legs stiff and stupid. She shuffles them past the burnt corpse, a messy and smoldering pile of black ashes, dusted with snow. Her and Dina emerge from the cave to a lavender sky, the Grand Tetons streaked with sparkling white snow. Frost and icicles crust the barren trees surrounding them. Ellie keeps her head down, breathing hard, and steps out into snow at least six inches deep.

She gasps, slips and falls, muscles screaming, but still she gets back up, shouldering an unconscious Dina. Infected or not, Ellie would get her back to Jackson. It had been their plan all along, even if they did take the long way back.

_"If we can get up somewhere high, we can figure out which direction to go."_

She needed to take her own advice. Ellie heads away from the river and into the woods. Snow rises in windswept banks up to her knees, crunching as she wades through it, jeans cold and soaked. Ellie stops to catch her breath and glances at Dina, a small, feathery wisp of breath from her chapped lips the only indicator that she was still alive. She grunts and strains aimlessly on. Every direction looks the same.

" _Look for the light._ "

The sun. The sun is warm. Ellie hauls them to the rising east, gold creeping up over the horizon.

Voices. She hears voices, too distant to make out but… calling something. Yelling, hollering. Ellie quickens, chest about to explode, heart and ribs and all. She could be blown to pieces and it wouldn't matter, as long as Dina made it back.

The voices echo over the hills.

"Ellie!"

"Dina!"

"Joel!" she yells back, but all that comes out is a pathetic squawk, barely louder than a whisper. "Joel!"

It does her no use. With a surge of determination, she powers up the steepest part of the hill. Her knee buckles from under her and Ellie falls face-first, catching herself at the last minute by landing on her shoulder, clutching Dina to her chest. Ellie snarls in frustration. She rolls over, pushing herself up from her belly with one arm, and then to her knees. Pain pummels her down, but she refuses to lie still and crumble. She drags Dina alongside her with miserable grunts and whimpers.

She makes it to the top of the hill. The sunrise opens up to a cloudless sky and down below, four people on horses comb the woods for them.

"Ellie!" Joel shouts down below, but he isn't looking uphill. No, he's facing the woods. "Ellie!"

"Up here!" Ellie cries, but again, all that comes out is pathetic and hoarse. "Joel! Up here!"

She sets Dina down and raises her arms, waving them frantically, but she faces the sun and makes no shadow. Ellie watches in horror as Joel and the group turn away, heading into the woods.

Her waving hands turn into fists that pound the snow. She breaks out into a sob that rips her from the inside, sucking in the cold air and unable to wail her agony, shaking her head. "No, no, no… Dammit, Joel… Fuck!"

She had failed. Ellie looks to Dina, her lips blue and face pale, already accepting the quiet request of death. Ellie bends over and kisses her forehead.

"I'm sorry, Dina," she whispers. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Dina doesn't respond.

This, Ellie knew, was it. Unlike Dina, she would fight for her final, dying breath.

But then, in the distance, a lone wolf rears back its head and howls to the moon, suspended to the western sky. The howl carries for miles, piercing through the pounding drums in Ellie's head. And suddenly, it all comes together.

She doesn't need a voice.

Ellie bolts upright, licks her lips, and whistles as hard and loud as she can. Her whistle is shrill; first, three short notes, then three long ones, and then three short ones again. S...O...S...

S...O...S...

S...O...S...

S...

O...

S...

And finally, when Ellie is about to pass out, lungs shriveled and ribs crunching with every blow, Joel returns. He gallops up the hill colliding into her vision as her head spins. He dismounts his horse, snow flying, and sprints to her. He catches her as she slumps over, unable to stay upright any longer.

"I've got you, baby girl. I've got you."

It's only when Ellie feels him reach under her and pull her into his arms, does she know she is finally safe. This time, when the darkness closes in, she gives into it.

+++

Orange, wintry sunlight welcomes Ellie awake. It comes in through the dingy yellow curtains of a tall, narrow window, catching the silvery glint of dust particles in the air. She follows the sunlit path to the corner, where a sleeping Joel rests in a battered armchair. His head is tilted back, grumbly snores escaping intermittently, lips twitching and jaw tensing beneath his black beard.

She was home. She was safe in Jackson's infirmary. And yet, knowing this doesn't keep the panic from racing up her throat. Dina. Where was Dina? Ellie sits up and bends over, shaking hands reaching under to clutch her knees, struggling to steady her pounding heart, each throb knocking against her already-painful ribs. It hurts to breathe. She can't breathe. This is how she would die, isn't it? It all flashes before her eyes like an awful movie on repeat, accomplishing nothing of value or contributing to the world, a complete waste of space, one of God's mistakes...

"Ellie." Joel speaks softly, but still, she flinches. She didn't hear him wake up, but now he stands at her bedside, easing onto the rubber mattress. He rests a hand on her knee. "Ellie, it's all right. You're safe. Relax."

"I… I can't," she chokes back between tears. "I can't breathe."

"You can," Joel replies. "You gotta slow it down. Easy."

"But I… But I…"

"Let it pass, Ellie. It's a panic attack. You'll be alright."

Something inside her tells her it won't be, but as she inhales longer, slower breaths, that screaming voice is banished to a whisper. She still trembles, sweaty hands locked under her knees, tears slipping from her eyes.

"Is this normal?" she asks.

Joel doesn't immediately reply. His lips thin and his thick brow furrows, choosing his words carefully.

"It ain't nothin' to worry about."

She exhales, taking small comfort in his wisdom. She wipes the mucus from her nose with the back of her hand, sniffling. Her panic fades, but a strange, foggy calmness washes over her instead. Her head throbs as she tries to recall the past few hours. No, few  _days_. The bonfire.  _Cottonwood Tower_. The Hunters. Rachel and Liam. The disemboweled man in the church, the race to Tommy's Dam, surviving the blizzard, dreaming, seeing Riley, and-

She sits upright, alert and looking to Joel again. "Where is she? Where's Dina? Is she okay?"

"One thing at a time, Ellie," Joel replies sagely, holding up a hand. "Doc says she's fine."

"But is she…" Ellie begins, but then catches herself. She glances at the sunset outside the window. It had been more than a day. Two days? She wasn't sure, but if Dina was going to turn, it would have happened by now. Her hair would have fallen out, her skin blistered, her eyes bleeding…

"Is she what?" Joel cuts across her thoughts, brow furrowing again.

Ellie shakes it off. "It's nothing."

His hazel eyes, weary and bloodshot, bore into her, but he doesn't pry. He gives her a curt nod and leans back. He wears the same apprehensive frown Ellie recognizes from their fight at the kitchen table. Shame balloons beneath her skin, patchy and red.

"Joel, I'm… I'm sorry," she confesses. She searches for him, but he remains silent, distant.

Then, slowly, he shakes his head, jaw stiff. "Not now, Ellie… Not now."

She drops it, but not because he's right. Despite sleeping soundly for a few hours, she doesn't feel rested at all. Bandaids patch the cuts on her fingers, a wad of cotton is taped to her cheek, and bandages wrap her ankle, a sprained pain she had come to ignore. A bottle of pills sits in an orange canister on the table next to her, half-empty. A dull, subdued pain still throbs in her ribs, but she breathes easy. Now, with the care of a skilled doctor, they could properly heal.

Joel stands and offers her a hand. "C'mon, now."

"Huh?"

"C'mon. I'll walk you to her room."

He tilts his head at the doorway. Dina. Ellie nods, wincing as she pulls the covers back and climbs out of bed. She looks down at her red, grubby toes. How they hadn't been lost to frostbite, she didn't know. She spots her ragged sneakers in the trash can.

She takes Joel's hand and teeters as she stands, leaning into his arm. Together, they shuffle down the hall of an old farmhouse, the pictures of someone's family gathering dust. Ellie's sprained ankle puts up a fight and she stumbles, one hand still clutching Joel's and her other pressing to the deer-patterned wallpaper, bubbling and peeling from years of neglect. They pass other bedrooms with sick patients inside, coughing up death rattles or moaning in pain. Cold weather was not kind to the frail. Their rooms were divided by a crude piece of plywood, and Ellie keeps her eyes averted. All she smells is the musty sweetness of death.

They reach a room at the end of the hall. On one half of the room, a man with a broken arm and leg sleeps, passed out from the morphine drip at his bedside. On the other, a young girl with a thick bandage over her eye and wrapped around her head gazes out the window at the Jackson commons below. Joel raps his knuckles gently against the door as not to startle her, and her good eye flickers to them. A weak but warm smile quirks in the corner of her split lip.

"Ellie," Dina says, voice raspy. But it's music to Ellie's ears.

"Hey," she replies. Dina scoots up on the bed as Joel helps Ellie to her bedside. Ellie longs to lay beside her, but instead she sits, their eyes locked in a wordless exchange. They were alive. Ellie finds Dina's hand, covered in just as many bandaids as her own. She meets Dina's smile, relieved.

Joel coughs. "I'm gonna… I'm gonna find some water. Holler if you need anythin'."

He excuses himself out, despite the water cooler in the corner of the room.

Dina stifles a giggle. "He doesn't seem too bad."

"Psh. Just wait until we're outta here. Then he'll really chew me out," Ellie replies with a smirk, but it doesn't last long. She can't help but stare in awe at the girl before her, awake and alive and… "How are you not infected? I…" Ellie casts a glance at the room's other occupant before whispering, "I kissed you."

Dina raises her eyebrows and shrugs. "I don't know, Ellie. Maybe I'm immune. Maybe you're not contagious. I mean, everything happens for a reason, right?"

She smiles, and a weight lifts in Ellie's chest. She nods. "Right."

"Now, what I really want to know is," Dina says, caressing her fingers along Ellie's bandaged arms. "How did you do it? One minute I'm thinking I'm going to die in that awful cave, and the next, I'm waking up here."

Ellie draws in a breath, remembering her struggle in the snow. The wet, the cold, the falling down, the dragging Dina's body, not knowing if she were dead or alive or infected… But then, she remembers before that, and she exhales with a fond expression.

"Riley," she replies softly. "I saw Riley."

She glances down her front, Riley's Firefly pendant catching the sunlight from the window. She picks at Dina's blue leather bracelet on her wrist.

"She told me to go back. That I had to come home. So… I did."

"That's… wild," Dina says. "But, now that you mention it… When we were in that cave… I had a dream about my brothers. My whole family, actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It was…" Dina pauses, a myriad of nostalgia and grief and serenity crossing her face, but then she lets it go. "It was nice, but I'm glad I'm here. With you. I know these past few days have been hell, but they're over now. We've got our whole lives ahead of us."

For just a moment, Riley's voice echoes like a long-lost ghost in Ellie's head. " _You ever think about the future, Ellie_?"

And in that same moment, Ellie looks to Dina, but she doesn't see her wounded and lying in bed. No, she imagines her out the strawberry fields, just as she had dreamed of being. Ellie holds Dina's hand. She wants it to be a reality.

"Dina, would you…" Ellie begins, and then falters. They had just gotten back. A few days recovery, and she knew that things would go back to the way they were. The "get well soon" cards and flowers decorating Dina's bedside table was evidence of that. She recognizes one of the cards as having the same handwriting as the note that had been in Dina's pocket, all the way back on the night of the bonfire. It's from Jesse.

"Hmm?" Dina says, unfazed. "What did you say, Ellie?"

"I was just going to ask you if…" She pauses, a flush creeping up to her cheeks. "If it would be okay if I stayed in this room with you."

"Ha! You mean you're not sick of me, yet?" Dina grins, playful. "Of course you can, Ellie. Besides. The only one that would probably mind is snoozles over there. I think Doc gave him enough vicodin to put him in a coma."

Ellie snickers. She's not wrong; the other patient in the room is still fast asleep, oblivious to her presence.

Dina sucks in a breath. "That, and… it's kinda weird to be back, you know? I mean, it was only a few days. It's not like anything's changed."

"Yeah," Ellie replies with an indifferent shrug. She takes a sudden interest in picking at the scabs on the back of her knuckles. "Everything will be back to normal, soon."

"You think so?"

"Probably. But with more rules and no more bonfires."

"Well, I'll be happy if I don't have to step foot in the woods for a whole 'nother year. That was way too intense."

Ellie nods. She's not sure if it's the drowsiness of unrestful sleep or the foggy haze that lingers after a panic attack, but she can't help but feel distant. She replays all that happened to them in her mind; stabbing the Clicker that first came after Dina, shooting at the Hunters at Cottonwood Tower, blasting the other Hunters apart on the railroad tracks… All of their deaths, their blood, on her hands.

And now, the very survival instinct that had kept them alive was once again being subdued, buried some place she would rather forget existed at all.

"Hey," Dina says, interrupting her reverie. "Even if things do go back to normal… You know I'm here, right? You can still come talk to me. And you don't have to sugar coat it. I can take it."

Dina had seen her ugly side. She had caressed bloody hands with dirt under the fingernails. She had kissed lips thought to be cursed with infection. She had dared to dance with the same person - monster, animal, wild creature - that had hacked an unknown man to bits and pieces, and then burned his body to stay warm. But it was also the side that had dragged them through the mud, rain, and snow. It was the resilient armor that protected her each time physical endurance was not enough. When hope had abandoned them in the cave, raw rebellion and determination had seen them through. The ugly side had brought them back.

"Thanks," Ellie replies. "But right now? I kinda just wanna pass out."

"Meeeee too," Dina remarks, sounding just as worn. She shifts to the side so Ellie can scootch up next to her, resting against the headboard. It's a position that once gave Ellie butterflies, her heart racing, but now, it fills her with a natural calm. She looks out the window at winter, but bathed in amber sunlight, all she smells is lilac.

She can't wait for spring.


	10. Chapter 10

_Two Months Later_

Amber sunlight weaves between tall, silent trees. Ellie passes underneath snow-laden boughs and icicled branches, winter finally blanketing the wilderness surrounding Jackson in pure, cold light. A crow cries and takes flight, snow dust shaking free and sparkling in the sunlight, damp on Ellie's cheeks.

She walks with a longbow cinched to her back. It tightens against her chest as she skirts down a rocky slope, boots slipping on frozen boulders and snow clinging to her faded blue jeans. At the bottom, she spots a partially iced-over stream and pauses. She knows this place.

Two months ago, she and Dina had been running and fighting for their lives. If Ellie squinted, she could make out the dead bodies of the Infected rotting where they had fallen, encrusted with snow. She hadn't imagined she would return to the spot so soon, nearly two miles from Jackson, but this time, she would be all right. The pack on her shoulders was heavy with supplies, and with it a compass to guide her back to Jackson. The glass face was shattered and the mirror inside cracked, but it would be enough to get her back home if she was ever lost again.

A pair of bird tracks dip into the stream and rise on the opposite bank. Ellie follows, boots thumping on the two black stones that rise up from the stream, crunching in the snow on the other side. Fresh snow washes over the tracks, concealing their true path.

Ellie exhales a long, warm plume of fog. "Now, where'd you go?"

She closes her eyes, listening.

Brisk wind whooshes with the trees, groaning and creaking in the cold. Squirrels prattle, claws scratching at scraggly tree trunks, fiercely defending their stash. They are easy targets, but they're not what Ellie's after. The stream gulps and bubbles behind her, and then…  _There_. A gentle gobble, somewhere ahead of her, radiant sunlight indicating an open meadow. Perfect for turkey foraging.

Ellie draws the longbow and knocks an arrow in preparation. Turkey were much more easy to startle than deer, and she needed to savor every moment she was hidden. Deer were likely to pause, staring her down before running away. Ellie didn't believe in the supernatural, but too many strange dreams about wolves and deer had convinced her to no longer hunt for them. It just didn't sit right.

Crouching and peering around a gnarled maple tree, its branches stretching over the sunstruck clearing, Ellie waits. At first, she doesn't see the turkey at all, but then he lifts his merled red and blue head, patchwork feathers camouflaging him in the tall, dead grass. He doesn't notice her.

She draws the arrow in one slow, fluid motion, up and pointed at his muscled breast. It's a straight shot.

A scream shatters the silence and Ellie's arrow flies past the turkey.

She bolts to her feet, suddenly alert, watching the turkey flee deeper into the winter forest. Her heart pounds in her throat, the back of her neck prickling, instincts awakened again. She did hear a scream, didn't she?

Her right hand trembles. Ellie exhales, measured and slow. She clenches her fist. Dina said it would help.

Ellie stows the longbow on her shoulders again and checks her pistol, a heavier Ruger 9mm after her Beretta had taken a swim in the Snake River, swept away downstream. She's got a full magazine and two extra, and not to mention the knife in her pocket or the second pistol in her backpack. Never again was she going to take any other stupid risks. She flicks the safety off.

She crosses the snowy meadow, pistol in hand, watchful green eyes flickering between the trees. She reaches her arrow, plunged deep into the bark of a withering spruce. She sighs, irritated, and tucks the pistol back into the holster at her side. Ellie reaches up, closing both fists around the arrow's wooden shafts, and yanks hard, when another scream echoes through the forest.

"Run!"

The pistol is back in her hands and Ellie sprints towards the sound. The screaming escalates, pulsing around her as she squeezes between the thickening trees and ducks under branches.

"Run! Run!"

Ellie frantically aims at the sound, first pointing into the woods and then sweeping above into the trees. Can Runners climb trees? Was that how they had been attacked so easily at the bonfire? She wasn't ready for that. There was no way she could take down a starving, rampaging pack alone, no matter how much gear she had brought with her.

"Run! Run! Run!"

A large, black raven perches atop a fallen tree, peering down at her from the tallest branch.

Anger sears through Ellie's throat and she shouts, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

The raven stops, tilting its head at her, glassy eyes curious. Ellie puts the pistol away again and kneels down, packing the snow with gloved hands. She throws a snowball at the bird.

"Get outta here!" she yells. "Go! Get!"

She throws another snowball and the raven takes off, cawing bitterly at her for ruining its fun, vanishing into the December sky. Ellie thinks she can hear it again, this time mimicking, "Get outta here! Go! Get! Get outta here! Go! Get!"

"Stupid bird," she mutters. The collar of her grey denim shirt sticks to the hot sweat on the back of her neck, a mix of adrenaline and humiliation. She promptly turns back the way she came, feeling fortunate that the raven wasn't too far from the more familiar part of the forest.

It was hard to believe that two months had passed since she and Dina returned to Jackson. Some days, it felt like yesterday that they were running from Hunters and killing Clickers, while other days it felt like years. After a few days of recovery, both of them had fallen back into Jackson's rhythm; breakfast served from six to nine and dinner from five to eight in the mess hall, patrol shifts around the clock, tending gardens and feeding animals, more work on the cabins built by the day… Things that used to bother Ellie, reminding her of the strict schedule in military school, were now oddly comforting. Beyond Jackson's walls and fences, nature had its own clock, and it meant she either bagged a turkey now or next spring.

She finally returns to the meadow, about thirty yards south of her missed shot. Ellie starts to make her way over to retrieve the arrow when the turkey gobbles, vigilant. She instantly sinks to the ground.

"Either you're super lucky, Ellie," she says to herself, sneaking closer. "Or turkeys really are that dumb."

She pulls out her longbow and knocks an arrow, waiting to draw. She doesn't have a clear shot, yet. She walks carefully in the snow, pausing only when the turkey raises his head. She circles around him to get the angle, stopping when she can see the scarlet flash of his wattle.

Ellie draws, exhaling and feeling the rigid goose feathers press to her cheek. The turkey raises his head one last time and the arrow launches soundly into his chest. A gobble rises and falls over the meadow.

Satisfied, Ellie throws the longbow on her back and walks up to the body. She kneels down, taking the arrow back, and is relieved at the instant kill. She had been hunting several Sundays since returning to Jackson, a compromise between her and Joel, provided she was back an hour before nightfall.

She ties another length of twine around the turkey's wings and body, folding them close together, and making it easier to carry. She hefts the bird over her shoulder and walks back to Jackson, the dripping blood following her tracks in the snow.

In a little more than an hour, Ellie is skirting down the shale slope, turkey over her shoulder, to Jackson's exterior wall. Twenty-foot timbers are lanced together by handwoven rope and cement, but are dwarfed by the fifty-foot spruces and firs rising like spikes out of the mountainside. Ellie follows a beaten path lined with gravel to the eastern gate. During the day, the doors are open and flanked by two patrolmen. She starts to walk on through when one of them crosses his rifle in front of her.

"Whoa there, stranger," Jesse says with a wry smile. "Afraid I can't just let anyone in. Do you have the proper payment?"

Ellie smirks. "Eat shit, Jesse."

She reaches for a small, burlap sack tied to her backpack and plonks it in his hand. He chuckles, giving it a toss, the rattle of acorns inside.

"Not bad, Ellie, not bad," he remarks. "Whatcha got there?"

"Tonight's dinner."

"Just in time for the party!" he exclaims, clapping her on the shoulder with a gloved hand. "You're gonna go, right?"

Ellie's stomach drops. The winter feast, a mashup of December holidays that everyone pre-Outbreak used to celebrate, was being held later that evening. It was all anyone had been talking about for days; the town abuzz with what they would wear, what they would dance to, who they were going to take. She wishes Joel would let her stay out in the wilderness a little longer so she could avoid the whole event together. It still didn't feel right to celebrate after the whole bonfire tragedy. The graves of the kids lost that night were still fresh.

She shrugs. "I don't know."

"You should come," Jesse says with confident ease. "Everyone's gonna be there, including you-know-who." He sighs as Ellie rolls her eyes. "Will you please just ask her out already? You're killing me, here."

"I would if she wasn't so dang busy all the time." Ellie kicks at the snow, her boot scuffing against the gravel. She tries to hide the flush in her cheeks and quickened breath, chewing on her lip. "I know what you mean."

"She doesn't talk about what happened, you know," he adds, tucking the acorn sack into his pocket. "To the two of you, out there."

Ellie shrugs. She was in no mood to talk about it, either, preferring to bury the whole experience with all of her other memories. Dina appeared to be doing the same. "So?"

"So…" He shifts from foot to foot. "I'm thinking you must have talked. C'mon Ellie, give me something to go off of."

"Sorry, it was a little hard to talk between fighting Infected and breaking my ribs," Ellie is quick to snark back. "Besides…we didn't talk about anything interesting. You know, girl stuff."

"Girl stuff? Since when does Ellie Williams talk about girl stuff?"

"Oh, shut up." She punches him in the arm, rolling her eyes again as he laughs. "Hey, speaking of, you haven't seen her around this morning, have you?"

Jesse pauses, looking over his shoulder at the bustling town behind him. "Hmm… No. Can't say I have. Oh, but if you do see her, can you give her this?"

He fishes in his coat pocket for something else. It's a folded paper note with  _Dina_ written on the outside. Ellie recognizes the scratchy handwriting as the same one that had been in Dina's pocket their first night in the woods together, as well as from one of the "get well soon" cards that had been on her night stand in the hospital. A stabbing unrelated to her now-healed ribs pierces her chest, and she forces herself to take the note with a friendly smile.

"Yeah. Totally man, I've got you," she even says, stomach flipping.

"Thanks," Jesse replies. "And thanks for the nuts, these are awesome."

"No problem."

"Take it easy, Ellie."

"You too, Jesse," she says, putting his note in her pocket, feeling nauseous but smiling through it.

"I'll see you tonight, right?" he calls as she walks away.

"Maybe," Ellie calls back, even when she's already made up her mind. The thought of Jesse and Dina together made her ill, but what could she really do about it? Sure, she and Dina had kissed, but from the moment they returned to Jackson, Ellie was left wondering if it meant anything to her at all. She still wore Dina's blue leather bracelet around her wrist, so even if she rarely saw or spoke to Dina, she could remind herself that they might still share something.

_Might._

Ellie cuts through the Commons, the rest of Jackson wide awake and busying themselves with daily chores and work. She passes by the newest barn, an enormous structure big enough to fit the whole town, still smelling like fresh lumber. She watches the people inside string up lights through the rafters or put the finishing touches on dining benches, hoping to find Dina among them, but she isn't there.

Ellie walks with her head down, not wanting to attract more attention than she already was. She knows people stare in admiration at the turkey on her back, some even congratulating her as she passes. She ducks as a snowball from the playground whizzes above her head, a dozen children laughing and romping in the fresh powder. She picks up her pace to Joel's cabin, inhaling the dry, bitter wind of the north. If she didn't know any better, Jackson was going to be battening down the hatches for another winter storm soon.

Ellie slows as she ascends the wooden steps of the shoddy house's front porch. She pauses, seeing Joel through the window, sitting at the kitchen table and waiting for her. That was unusual.

She opens the door and is instantly hit by the aroma of strong, black coffee. "Hey."

"Hey," Joel replies, closing a book and folding up a pair of reading glasses to set on top of it. "How's huntin'?"

Ellie takes off her backpack to show him the turkey. Joel smiles, standing up with his hands on his hips, impressed.

"That's a nice 22-pounder," he remarks. "How 'bout I clean him up for you and give him to Gloria?"

Ellie's brow furrows. "Don't you have patrol duty?"

"Nope. Took the day off." He takes the turkey from her and lays it in the sink, the blood still dribbling down the drain.

"What for?" Ellie asks. She steals a chipped mug from the barebones cabinet and pours herself a cup of coffee. She had hated it at first, but then again, she had hated whiskey, too, when she had first tried it.

"Just felt like it."

"Hmm…" Ellie replies, knowing that Joel always had some kind of ulterior motive. She discovers it as she sits down at the kitchen table:  _Parenting Your Teenage Girl, A Crash Course Guide to Adulthood_. She groans. "Joel, my man, you can't be serious."

Joel pours himself a second cup of coffee. "About what?"

"About this!" Ellie exclaims, picking up the book and holding it in the air for him to see. "Like… For real? You took the day off to read this garbage?"

"I think it's actually been quite helpful," Joel says with an educated tone, taking the book from her. He rests his hand on top of it as he eases back into the wooden chair. "It's got all kinds of tips 'n' pointers for someone that doesn't know how to raise a daughter."

He says it casually, but Ellie knows it's a passive-aggressive jab. She sinks in her seat, picking her fingernail at the chip in her mug. Their fight was something she was still desperately trying to avoid, but after two months, it had apparently been long enough.

"Hey, I'm… I'm really sorry for what I said," she says, her eyes fleeting to his and retreating again. "I didn't mean it. And I shouldn't… I shouldn't have dragged Sarah into it."

Joel stiffens at his real daughter's name, but brushes it off with a sip of coffee. "Me too, Ellie."

He casts a glance out the window, the winter sunlight washing out the wrinkles on his worn face and reflecting the white hairs in his black beard. He looks older than Ellie remembers, or maybe it's the healthy weight on his cheeks or the grey hair curling around his ears that makes him look that way. Any moment, Ellie knew, his peace could snap into the hard, cold survival veteran she had come to know.

Ellie lifts her mug to her lips and her hand trembles. Coffee splashes over the edge and Joel's wary eyes flicker to it as she sets the mug back down, but he says nothing. He's seen it before, his own hands riddled with old, pink scars. They were the same, in that regard.

"I've been thinking," he mumbles. "If you want to tell people you're infected…that's your choice."

He looks to the inside of her forearm, her scar covered by her long-sleeve denim. Ellie stiffens, recognising the expression he'd made during their fight before the bonfire.

"So I need you to…" Joel grunts, reconsidering his words with a brief glance at the parenting guidebook. "You need to be careful. Not everyone in Jackson is ready for this sort of thing. And I'm… I'm sorry this place ain't perfect. But you'll find your place."

She wants to believe him because she knows he's trying his best, but she hesitates. She sips her coffee with her other hand. "Thanks, Joel."

He nods, seeming pleased that their conversation went smoother than he had been planning.

"Dina came by this morning," he comments, switching subjects. "Dropped off this here coffee from Gloria. Now, I know she helps out in the kitchens, but I think she-"

"Was she looking for me?" Ellie asks quickly, pulse racing, and not from the caffeine.

Joel smirks. "Yes, Ellie, I believe she was."

And suddenly, Ellie's chair is empty and wobbling on its legs, with Ellie giving him a quick, "Thanks, Joel!" before he can even set his mug back on the table.

"Huh," he snorts, thumbing the parenting book's pages. "Can't believe this crap actually works…"

Ellie double-times it back across the Commons, her shoulders significantly lighter without a turkey to lug around. She approaches a large, narrow log cabin, the aroma of syrupy pancakes and sizzling bacon wafting through the pinewood double-doors as people enter and exit. She salivates at the thought of a big, fat Belgian waffle; it didn't matter what Dina thought, waffles would always be the superior choice of morning eats.

The mess hall is packed with patrons. Only on Sundays could someone order scrambled eggs, toast, pancakes, and sausage; every other day of the week was oatmeal. At least half of Jackson's population was here, sitting on long benches shoulder-to-shoulder, silverware tinkling on ceramic dishes. Ellie pauses near the cafeteria line, searching the rows and rows of faces for Dina.

For a moment, Ellie's eyes lock with a pair of steely blue eyes, piercing through the crowd with hardened fervor. A little boy in a blue baseball cap sits next to her, munching on a muffin with both hands. Ellie's heart skips a beat and her mouth opens, but then Rachel shakes her head, dismissive, and stabs her french toast with a fork.

Ellie breathes a sigh of relief. Of all the threats in the world, she was lower on Rachel's radar.

_Just a girl, not a threat_ , she thinks to herself, fist clenching. She turns her back to the dining hall, not bothering to seek Rachel out. It was better to pretend they didn't know each other at all.

Unable to resist the temptation of buttery waffles any longer, Ellie grabs a plastic tray from the stack and shuffles along with everyone else. To her luck, Gloria is manning the line, scooping waffles and pancakes with pair of aluminum tongs.

"Oi, we're gonna need some more waffles ASAP!" she barks to the rest of her kitchen staff over her shoulder, sweat beading down the side of her temple. She turns around and smiles at Ellie, as if she were wearing two faces. " _Buenas dias_ Ellie! Catch anything this morning?"

"Turkey," Ellie replies, beaming. Over the past few Sundays, Gloria had come to rely on Ellie to hunt down a signature dish for dinner. It was a small contribution to the town, but it filled her chest with pride. "Joel said he'll clean it for you and bring it on over this afternoon."

"Aye, remind him to keep the head! Turkeys may be the stupidest birds alive but they make some damn good broth," Gloria remarks with a shake of her tongs. She tosses a waffle on Ellie's tray without needing to be prompted.

"Will do," Ellie replies. She cranes her neck past Gloria for a better look into the kitchen and then asks, "Hey, is Dina back there today?"

Gloria's lips purse. "Hmm, no,  _lo siento_ , not yet. I'll let her know you dropped by when she gets in."

Ellie's brow furrows. "Oh. Well…" She fishes for the note in her pocket and slides it over the top of the sneeze guard. "If you could just give her that when you see her?"

Gloria snickers with her eyebrows raised. "Love letters now, eh?"

Ellie keeps her face neutral and ignores the twinge in her chest. "It's from Jesse."

Gloria grabs the note and pockets it in the front of her chef's apron. "Okay, okay."

"Thanks," Ellie says awkwardly, head down. "Have a good day, Gloria."

"You too, Ellie."

Ellie grabs two slices of bacon to go with her waffle, and pours a drizzle of fresh maple syrup into each of the waffle pockets. She finds a seat on the other end of the dining hall, one that looks out the window at the Commons. A symphony of iron bells clang outside to signal the top of the hour. People leave the mess hall to put on their scarves and gloves, pick up their hard hats, and head into another day's work. With no one for her to talk to, it doesn't take long for her to wolf down her food, eating as if she would never eat another waffle in her life.

Sated, Ellie drops off her tray with the others at the dirty dish counter, walking as swiftly out the door as she had come in. Brisk winter air greets her again, stinging her cheeks as she heads down the snow-ridden path to the barns. Wherever Dina was, she would have to figure out later. She needed to put her anxious mind and restless hands to work.

Far and away from the hustle of the town, Ellie sits on top of a wooden post in a thick winter coat and a hunting rifle in her lap. She watches Jackson's horses paw at the snow with their hooves, revealing dead grasses to graze upon. She can see all of them spread out over half a mile, wearing festive red and green quilts to keep them insulated from the wind blowing across the pasture.

Ellie's knee bounces, but not from the cold. A hole of regret burns in her gut. There was no doubt in her mind as to the purpose of Jesse's note, certain that it was asking Dina to the winter feast later that evening.

"Fucking moron," Ellie mutters to herself. She didn't have to pass the note along; Jesse could have delivered it his damn self. And yet, here she was, sour and frustrated. Why did she care so much? She should have expected Jesse to make a move sooner or later. He had mentioned it to her the night of the bonfire, after all, and apparently had been the one to carry Dina into the infirmary when they had been rescued. He had given her notes before, left "get well soon" cards on her night stand, snuck away from his patrol duty to see her, and…

Out of the corner of her eye, something dark slinks out of the woods near the western fence line. All thoughts of Jesse and Dina are put on hold as Ellie raises her rifle, peering through the scope for a better look.

A black wolf lopes in her crosshairs.

"Oh, come on," she groans, lowering the rifle. It was coincidence. Pure, utter coincidence that it would be the same black wolf she had met in the woods two months ago.  _Maybe,_ she thinks,  _it's just a coyote. Or a big grey fox._

She lifts the rifle again to look, and it is no doubt a wolf. A red squirrel dangles from its jaws as it pauses to stare at the horses.

"Don't even think about it," Ellie says aloud, hopping down from the fence post and into a secure position, one knee down in the snow. She cradles the rifle trigger with her index finger. Grace, the horses' main caretaker, would have already fired. But, something holds Ellie back.

Joel's voice from her dream echoes in her head as she crouches down, unable to shoot the wolf but also unable to look away. " _Some things you can't change, Ellie. Nature being one of them."_

It wasn't the wolf's fault that it was a hunter. It was born to chase, kill, and feed. Instinct was its only master.

Maybe she and the wolf weren't so different.

Ellie removes the crosshairs from the wolf's chest and takes aim at a pine tree near it. She pulls the trigger and the stock jerks into the meat of her shoulder, and a sharp  _crack!_ rippling over the pasture, startling both horse and wolf. She watches as the wolf high-tails it back into the deep, quiet darkness of the woods, and wishes she could follow.

Going to the winter feast that night was not a good idea. Then again, going to the bonfire hadn't been a good idea either, and yet Ellie had gone anyways.

She puffs her freckled cheeks in the cracked mirror above her dresser. She had pulled back her hair, wearing her nicest flannel, and all that looked back at her was an anxious girl with eyes that were deep-set and an ugly scar on her eyebrow to boot. She exhales with a stubborn frown. She used to not give two shits about her appearance - no, she still doesn't - and her palms sweat, knowing that she only cares so much because of what Dina will see.

Dina had already seen everything. She knew everything. So why the  _fuck_ was she so nervous about possibly seeing her at the post-feast dance?

Joel's knuckles rap on her bedroom door. "Ellie? You ready to go?"

"Here goes nothing," Ellie mutters to herself. "Yeah. I'm coming."

She opens the door to a strangely well-dressed Joel. His curly hair, usually wild and scraggly, was slicked back and parted, his beard trimmed and shaped. Ellie pauses, eyes narrowed at his navy blue button-down and polished black shoes.

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with Joel?" she mocks.

"Dammit," Joel grunts, frowning. Ah, there was the grumpy old man she knew. "Too formal?"

"Well, I've never seen you dress like that before, so…"

Joel grumbles something Ellie doesn't catch, shifting from foot to foot. Eventually, though, he shakes his head with a defeated sigh. "You know what… Forget it. I'll change."

He starts to turn away when Ellie snags him by the sleeve. "No, you just… need to look more like you."

"Look who's talkin'," he smarts back, an eyebrow raised at her purple flannel. "How long has that been in your closet?"

"Hey, fuck you." Ellie smirks as she unbuttons his sleeves for him to roll up. She reaches a hand up for his hair but he blocks her with a playful swat.

"You got any idea how long this took me to do?"

"You mean to turn into a fancy-pants doppelganger?" Ellie reaches a hand up again and he steps to the side. "Nope. Don't know, don't really care."

"Will you cut it out?"

He's annoyed and it makes her snicker with mischief. She pauses enough for him to sigh and relax, and then pounces, messing up his hair at last.

"God dammit," he growls as she grins and backs away, victorious.

"There. Now you look like you."

"Fine. Are you done?"

Ellie shrugs. "I guess."

"Then let's get movin'." He turns away and heads down the stairs, grabbing his Carhartt jacket from the back of a kitchen chair. Ellie follows, throwing a dark grey sweater over her flannel, and walking out into the brisk night. The full moon illuminates their path to the new barn, already alight with music and festivities.

Joel strides ahead of her, his walking gait at least twice the size of her own. It wasn't uncommon for him to march ahead, but there was a quickness to him, his shoulders squarer and his head held higher than he normally cared to.

"Hey, what's the hurry?" she calls from behind him, lengthening her own stride to keep up.

"We don't wanna miss out."

"Miss out? I thought you hated these things."

He grunts, but says nothing as they arrive at the barn. An evergreen wreath with red ribbons and acorns hang plump and cheerful on the pinewood door as he opens it, revealing a beautiful and decorated interior packed with people in their finest outfits, all smiling, laughing, eating, or dancing and having a good time. Something spicy and caramel-like entices Ellie from the dessert table and the end of a long buffet line, manned by none other than Gloria and her crew. They, too, are dressed in their nicest clothes, free of grease stains and oil splatters, nodding their heads to the jovial melody rising from the fiddle near the front of the room.

Ellie's eyes widen as she looks up at the ceiling. Different-sized light bulbs on strings umbrella from the rafters and upstairs mezzanine, where an evergreen garland wraps around the wooden banisters. It's as if she's in a whole other world, one where monsters and darkness don't exist. She had never seen anything else like it.

"Holy shit," she says, trying to keep up with every thoughtful detail. Paper snowflakes from the town children hung from the mezzanine rails, summer wine kegs were cracked open for drinking, and everywhere she looked, there was a tray of cookies. "Joel, is this…"

But when she looks to where he had been standing he was gone. She closes her mouth, chewing on her lip. He was acting way too weird tonight.

Amongst the lively crowd and good smells, Ellie feels a tightness in her chest. She ignores it, pressing through the crowd to explore. She discovers an enormous fir tree, almost touching the cathedral-sized ceiling. The dark green boughs are decorated with popcorn strings and silvery-glittered pinecones, no doubt a contribution of Jackson's sewing ladies. Everywhere she looked - from the majestic stone fireplace to the funny wooden figurines on the mantle - someone in Jackson had played a part in bringing the winter festival to life.

A man about Joel's height walks up next to her, an extra beer bottle in hand. He extends it out to her.

"Merry Christmas, Ellie," he says with a warm smile.

"Thanks, Uncle Tommy," she replies, cheering their bottles together. When she sips it, she's surprised to taste crisp and zesty cider instead of beer. "So is this… Christmas?"

"Eh, it's about as close as you could probably get." He leans in closer. "And don't tell anyone, but I heard a rumor that Santa's comin' 'round midnight."

"My lips are sealed," she replies. She still didn't fully comprehend the whole purpose of Christmas, or any other holiday for that matter, but from what she did experience, it was usually fun. Weird and outlandish, but fun.

"Speakin' of secrets…" Tommy wraps a familial arm around her shoulders. "Joel stopped by this afternoon. And he, uh… Well, he told me about your situation."

Heat rises on the back of Ellie's neck. Tommy had known she was infected since the day Joel brought her to Jackson, but the fear of being discovered still races through her mind. The feeling in her chest tightens even more.

"And I wanted to let you know that it'll be alright. We've got a plan just in case things go south." He gives her shoulder a squeeze. "You're family, now. At least in my eyes. And y'know what?"

"Hmm?" Ellie sips her cider with a trembling hand.

"Families protect each other. Remember that."

She hesitates, and then nods. "I will."

"I mean it."

"I know you do," she replies, inwardly relieved but still not sure of what kind of plan he had in mind. She had the feeling that it was a plan that wouldn't take place until the time came. There was nothing she could do now, but wait and drink.

Tommy takes a step back, clinks his bottle against hers again as if they were having a very casual conversation, and drinks. He sucks the foam from his whiskered top lip and looks around the room. "Hey, have you seen Joel? Thought he said he was comin' with ya."

"I did," Ellie replies. "But, I dunno where he went."

"Hmm…" Tommy rumbles in a way not unlike his brother. "Well, you take care, Ellie. Be seein' ya."

"Later."

Tommy slips away into the crowd, leaving Ellie alone by the fireplace once more. She drains her bottle, drinking a little faster than she realized, but only in hopes of dispelling her nerves. It does nothing to ease the tightness in her chest or the twisting feeling in her stomach. She should be having fun. Relaxing. Laughing and smiling along with everyone else, but how could she when in the back of her mind, all she could imagine was them reeling on her with guns drawn? Tommy might have had a plan, but would it be enough to save her when the time came?

A distinct and familiar laugh interrupts her downward spiral. Ellie looks up at the mezzanine above her head and immediately spots Dina leaning over the balcony. For a moment, the tightness in her chest vanishes, wanting to run up the stairs and join her. She hadn't seen her all day.

Ellie starts, but then another laugh accompanies Dina's. She looks up again. She watches as Dina turns and Jesse appears, passing Dina a glass of red wine. Dina thanks him with a quick peck on the cheek.

The tightness in Ellie's chest knots hard and rips into pure, unbridled anger. Her fingernails scratch against the cider bottle's glass in hand as she marches away, bumping through the crowd without bothering to apologize. She throws her bottle so hard into the trash that it shatters against the aluminum can. The sharp crash cuts over the fiddle, turning heads and drawing alarmed stares, and she knows she needs to escape.

The only way out was the way she came in. Ellie knocks her shoulder into the door, bumping the wreath off of it and into the snow. She catches only a brief, "Ellie, wait-" from Joel somewhere, but she doesn't turn back and she doesn't care. The winter festival could go fuck itself.

"Ellie," Joel calls again as the door bangs behind her. He starts to get up, reaching for the jacket on the back of his chair, when a hand lays on his muscled forearm. It's a woman.

"Let her go, Joel," she says, her voice just as kind as her eyes. "Let her go. She needs to be alone."

Joel stiffens, hesitating, watching Ellie run into the winter night. Someone closes the door, and after a momentary hush the fiddle resumes, the chatter starts again, and it was as if Ellie had never left. Joel sighs and eases back into his seat. He looks to the woman with her hand still on his arm and nods.

The stables are Ellie's closest safe haven. She digs up a spare key from under a nearby wheelbarrow and fiddles with the heavy-duty padlock, hands shaking and swearing up a storm. When it doesn't budge she howls in frustration and kicks over a trash can full of sawdust, unable to control the pounding fury, the fucking  _injustice_ , raging through her. She tries the padlock again. It clicks open and she practically rips it off of the rusted latch, lifting the drawbar and shouldering her way into the horse barn.

The horses within neigh shrilly and snort at her entry, suddenly awake with a midnight visitor. The black colt shakes his head and glares at her, his ears pinned back, mimicking the anger in her stance. The older mares back up into the corner of their stalls, grunting and pawing nervously at the straw on the ground.

Their reaction takes Ellie aback. Her fists uncurl as she straightens up. "Oh. I… I'm sorry, everyone."

She flips the lightswitch on. A low hum fills the barn as sulfate bulbs overhead are slow to light. At the sight of her, the horses relax, chuffing. Even the colt, more riled up than the rest, turns away, tail swishing.

"I'm sorry. Really," she says aloud to them. "That was stupid of me."

The old mares hang their heads over their gates at the sound of her voice. A large stallion nickers, pushing against the walls of his stall, curious and restless. Ellie exhales. The stables were a familiar place, the horses happy to see her, even at her surprise entrance. It was going to be alright.

At least…that's what she hoped. A strange fog overtakes what remaining anger she would have had. Over the course of an hour, her hands find work: she sweeps the sawdust back into the trash can and sets it upright. She screws the latch back on to the padlock. She finds something to do, lest her thoughts and feelings get the best of her. It was a shitty situation, but she would adapt. Endure. Survive.

She finds peace in brushing out the horses, one by one. The colt is still upset with her and she leaves him be, instead focusing her efforts on a young chestnut mare. She kneels down to brush the mare's flank when she hears the stable door open.

Ellie frowns. She doesn't bother looking up. "I'm fine, Joel. Leave me alone."

If he hears her, he doesn't respond. His footsteps scuff over the dry earth. She listens as the colt gives him an arrogant snort, sighing before pushing herself to a stand.

"Hey, keep away from that one, he…"

But it isn't Joel, gently stroking the long, black nose of the colt, acting as if it were an elderly gelding and not some rambunctious young stallion. It's Dina.

"Hey," she says softly. "I thought I'd find you here."

Words don't come quickly to Ellie. She sets the brush down and exits the mare's stall, approaching Dina, brow furrowed. Ellie licks her lips, wanting to say something, but unable to think of the right words. They all seemed too angry or bitter. She locks her eyes to the ground and doesn't look at Dina when she meets up with her.

"What's going on?" Dina asks.

Ellie grimaces and crosses her arms. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Dina echoes. "Nothing is the reason you're here and not the festival?"

"Maybe." Ellie chews her lip, casting a glance out the stable window. The festival is still alight with people and music.

"I think nothing is a load of horse shit," Dina says with a smirk. "No pun intended."

Ellie doesn't crack a smile.

"Ellie, please, talk to me." Dina reaches out a hand and Ellie backs away. "Why can't you just tell me what's going on?"

"Because I…" Ellie begins, catches herself, and then tries again. "Because I don't see how any of this matters."

"You mean the festival?"

"No, I mean… You. Me. You and me. Why are you even here?"

Dina's eyebrows raise and it's her turn to look away. "Ah."

"Thought so," Ellie remarks, hands clapping at her sides as she shrugs. She turns away, headed for the bench at the back of the barn. She stows the brushes and tools into their respective cupboards and drawers.

Dina shuffles behind her. "It's not like that."

Ellie doesn't look at her. "Sure seems like it is."

"But it's not."

"Tell Jesse that, since you seem to love being around him so much."

"I don't hang around him that much," Dina replies with a frustrated roll of her eyes. "Seriously. I didn't see him until he came to walk with me to the festival. Which he specifically asked me to go to, by the way. I was being nice."

"Right. Nice," Ellie snorts, putting the last of the tools away. "He has the biggest fucking crush on you."

"Yeah, I know."

Ellie stands, taking off her gloves and setting them on the workbench. "So? Do you like him back?"

Dina inhales, hesitating, and then exhales, long and slow. "I don't know, Ellie."

"You don't know?"

"Yes. No. No, I really don't know, Ellie. I honestly haven't thought about it."

It's not the answer Ellie wants to hear. The anger swells hot in her chest again and she can't look at Dina in the eye. Ellie braces one hand against the workbench, her insides wanting to explode, forcing away the tears from her eyes. The knot in her throat keeps her from speaking. Once, she had thought a life without Dina would have been hard. But seeing her with someone else? And one of her best friends, at that?

She grits her teeth and glares at the floor. But just as she was about to answer, Dina throws her hands up.

"Fine. Be an asshole."

And she starts to leave. Ellie watches as she walks back up the aisle, ignoring the colt as he hangs his head over the gate, and opens the front door.

"Dina, wait!" Ellie finds herself calling, her voice cracking. She sprints up as Dina lingers. "Wait. Please."

Dina pauses. Her fingers pinch uncertainly at the seam of her long skirt.

"You're right," Ellie says, panting slightly. "I've been an asshole, and… and I don't have an excuse for that, but..." She pauses, licking her lips, struggling for words yet again. She stamps her foot. "Look… I'm not too great at this, so I'm just going to say it, whether I sound like an asshole or… whatever. You haven't exactly been honest with me, either, and it's… it's bullshit, Dina."

This time, Dina doesn't hesitate. She lowers her head, blinking rapidly and murmuring, "I know. I just… I can't…" She sniffles and then sucks in a breath, bracing herself. "I don't know, Ellie. It's…it's really hard to talk to you when you're pissed off."

Ellie exhales, long and foggy. She couldn't remember when it had become so easy to get wrapped up inside her own head. It was as if when there was nobody else to fight, her rage would turn inward on itself.

"Okay, well… I'm not mad, now."

"And if I mention Jesse, you won't fly off the handle?"

His name makes Ellie's heart jump to her throat, but she swallows it back down. She drags a wooden bar stool near and sits on it. "No. I'm… I'm here to listen."

"All right," Dina says. She tucks a curl behind her ear, a piece of sparkling, handmade jewelry dangling from it. "Truth is, Ellie… Every time I look at you, I can't help but think of what we went through. I know we're safe now, but… I can't help but think of what would have happened if we had died in that cave. Or if I had died in the river, or by Clickers, or Hunters, or… whatever was trying to kill us. All I really know is that I would be dead without you."

"So…" Ellie says, putting the pieces together. "So that's why you've been avoiding me?"

"Not on purpose," Dina quicky replies, and then frowns at her own realization. "Shit. Sorry… I guess some of it was on purpose. But I didn't do it to hurt you. I just… I just want to feel better, you know?"

Ellie frowns with her, nodding slowly. "I know."

Dina holds her elbow with her opposite hand. "I also hung around the infirmary for a while after getting better. Doc was impressed with the way I had handled your ribs, and so he offered to train me as his apprentice."

"That's pretty cool, actually," Ellie remarks, feeling foolish.

"Yeah, I'm really enjoying it," Dina continues. She smiles wistfully. "It reminds me of my mother."

Ellie nods. Like Christmas, a mother was something she didn't fully comprehend. Somewhere, there was a handwritten note buried at the bottom of her backpack, a reminder to Ellie that her mother had once existed.

Dina shakes her head and sighs. "When it comes down to it, Ellie… I like you. I like you a fucking lot. And I think that feeling scares me more than anything else."

Ellie blinks. "Why?"

"Because I've never felt this way about anyone before?" Dina says. "And it's only with you. Do you ever feel that way?"

Dina looks at her with big, brown eyes brimming with tears. They were genuine, praying that Ellie would have a similar response.  _Plenty_  is what Ellie wants to reply, but it gets choked in her throat. Caring for someone else more than herself, making sure they were safe, and the world collapsing if anything were to ever happen to them… She had been there before. Her worst fear was being alone. Losing Dina scared the ever-living shit out of her.

But, Dina felt safe with her. Protected. Even if the world they lived in was full of monsters and misery, there was something to cherish in the way that Ellie could hold her hands. It was so simple. It was so stupid. And yet, it felt completely right.

"I…" Ellie says, and then swallows. "I feel like that all the time."

Dina's kiss is just as warm and tender as Ellie remembered it, and she feels like she could fall headfirst into countless places unknown as long as Dina was there. Before Ellie knows it, her thumbs are hooked in the belt loops of Dina's jeans as she slides off the bar stool, following the distant music of the festival, echoing into the night.

Dina pulls away. She drapes her arms around Ellie's neck, swaying from side to side. "Ellie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we start over?"

It's a simple question that opens a floodgate of relief through Ellie's chest. It was the best thing she had heard all day, and would have never imagined that this was how her night would end. She wonders what would have happened if the infected had never attacked on the night of the bonfire. Would she ever have had the courage to talk to Dina? Or would she stuck in secret, forlorn pining?

But what she had felt back then didn't matter. Because now, Dina knew. She knew everything. And it makes Ellie smile, ironically grateful for all that had happened. "Yes, please."

Dina rests her head on Ellie's shoulder, her cheek pressed to the warm flannel. "Good."

"There is… one thing, though," Ellie says.

"Hmm?"

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"Promise."

"Okay." Ellie clears her throat and doesn't let Dina go. She closes her eyes, adding the drums from her head to the music in the distance. And then, she begins to sing. " _When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth…_ "

Dina gasps. "You remembered that song? And, hold up, you can sing?"

Ellie smiles, carrying onward. " _No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her…_ " She shrugs. "And…that's about all I got."

"Damn. And here I was thinking I could impress you," Dina replies with a smirk. She takes a step back, still holding one of Ellie's hands, and twirls like falling leaves.

"Do you want to head back to the festival?"

"Not really." Dina rests her head on Ellie's shoulder. "I like it here, with you."

Ellie tightens her arms around Dina. "Me too."

Dina leans into her, soft and kind and understanding. The amber lights above them glow as bright as a firefly, and the horses all tucked into their stables watch them dance in silent company.

_Finally_ , Ellie thinks.  _Finally, this is what home feels like._

* * *

**Author's Note:** And that's a wrap, folks! Thank you all for reading and sharing your thoughts; it's been a very warm welcome into this community. I haven't written fanfiction of any kind in a few years, and I haven't written anything this long in... far too long. But another playthrough and then hype for the sequel brought forth so many theories that I simply couldn't help myself. I wanted to know about what could possibly happen between Ellie and Dina before we see them in the trailer. How did they get to know each other? Is there a harrowing journey they could have been on to bring them closer? There's plenty of small references and headcanons shoved into here, so again thank you for reading it at all. I would love a chance to discuss with you, too!


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